Beauty and the Beast: Judgement of the Heart Bk 6
by Vetivera
Summary: An explosive case creates conflict for Jacob and Catherine.
1. Chapter 1

'Come in Jacob. Have a seat.'

'Am I in trouble? You never call me Jacob unless I am.'

'You should be so lucky. I wonder how I even remember my own name most days.'

Oats stopped kidding around and looked with interest at his young PD. Two years on the job and already a remarkable researcher. He could hold his own in court but his ability to find information was a constant source of wonderment to all his colleagues.

'I guess you heard that John Civco is leaving.'

'No I didn't hear.'

'Jacob, you amaze me. You can find the most minute detail to settle a case, but the ins and outs of life around here just pass you by.'

'Not interested in gossip. Some one told me a while ago that only facts matter. So, until I hear it from the horse's mouth, I won't believe it.

'I'll ignore the implications of that comment and just let you know that he is retiring, from here at least.' There was a slight embarassed pause from Oats before he continued. 'I have been offered the Director's job Jacob.'

'Is it what you want?' At the nod, Jacob continued. 'Then you should take it.'

'As easy as that?'

'Sure. Why make the decision tougher by looking at the pro's and cons endlessly? I think you will make a great director.'

'Thanks Jacob.' The words were genuine and reflected the confidence which Kurt Oats placed in his young defender.

Jacob pushed up from his chair ready to leave but was halted by a raised hand.

'Don't go yet. I want to ask you something.'

Jacob resumed his seat, an expectant look on his face.

'Karen Wrensch will leave with her boss. I'll need a new secretary.'

'Not Cathy!' The tone was final.

'No, I am convinced she is much happier outside of these walls.' There was another lengthier pause. 'I meant you.'

Jacob looked rather incredulous but said nothing. He knew there was more to come.

'Thank you for not running out the door. I know it sounds crazy but hear me out. I have never seen anyone work as diligently as you, and do it in record time. You obviously have a remarkable talent. I want you to continue working the same hours, but do so under my wing. Officially you will be my admin assistant. I will hire a receptionist to take care of day to day routines. We can negotiate salary and you'll have your own office.'

It wasn't exactly a plea but Jacob could sense the need behind the request.

'Ok, so unlike your job offer, this comes as a complete surprise.'

'Jacob, do you want to defend people in court?'

'I will when I have to but I prefer the prep work.'

'Exactly! You and I will follow up on the work, check facts and send our defenders out there well armed and ready to do a fair defense for the client.'

'You mean streamline the system a bit....make it more efficient?'

'Wherever we can change it.....yes!'

'Under the right leadership, change is possible. I'll discuss it first with my family and let you know tomorrow. If there is anything you think I should know about you.... before I say yes….tell me now. I don't want to hear it from Cathy.'

'I don't snore, if that's any help to you.'

Jacob laughed and rose from his seat. He shook hands with Oats. His body so lithe and angular when he first started at the PD's office, now filled out nicely. He could never be considered bulky, but the good looks only deepened with the maturing of his youthful frame. Jacob understood his capabilities very well. If anything, most of his amazing skill was kept under wraps. Very little of it had been seen, even by his wife. He both feared his power and embraced it, always knowing that it was not yet well controlled.

Of necessity, he was already a loner at work. Being confined in an office, researching was just the balance he would need to continue his busy lifestyle outside the office. The demands of his marriage, his parents and sisters, the tunnel communities and the ever present spectre of the Bastet family dynamics forced him to slow down sometimes so as not to get overwhelmed. In the midst of it all, Cathy gave foundation to his life with her love and support. The wonderment he felt, at the strength of feeling emanating from her generous heart, gave him hope to carry on. How much easier it would have been to just move down to the tunnels and live free of the temptations of life above.

When they first fell in love, Cathy expressed a desire to make their home below. The seductive pull of New York's frenetic pace was, however, too hard to resist. The Community below would remain a refuge. Life was to be lived above. Even his father had embracd the hustle and bustle, revealing more and more of himself every day to a surprisingly understanding world above.

Jacob returned to his desk. He did not want to think about the opportunity Oats presented. It was early spring in New York and he was approaching his second year anniversary on the job at the Public Defender's office. He did not intentionally seek out promotions but they came his way because of his remarkable work ethic.

Administrative Assistant! It would be a post created for him. He knew he could handle more of the same. As he thought about how the role might look, he remembered Eric, Joe Maxwell's own, capable assistant. He had done so much for the family since the day months ago when Jacob burst into Joe's office in search of his mother's grave. He owed a lot to both Joe and Eric. The return trip from California with his mother and father, reunited after over 20 years apart, was well organized. The brownstone in which the family now lived had been, not only purchased, but also decorated by the young man.

Conceding that there was no tme like the present, Jacob pulled out his cell phone and called. He wanted to be armed with some facts before he made a final decision.

* * *

At precisely 4 p.m., Jacob could be found at his usual spot waiting for his wife of just a few months. He loved to watch her walk through the door. She always entered a room like a gust of summer wind, bringing new energy to the mid afternoon when most people were beginning to fade.

'How was school today?'

'Can you believe that I only have one more course to complete my degree?'

'Really?'

'Yes, I got some credit for a couple of things I did before I dropped out the last time.' Cathy's eyes were sparkling. She sat down beside her husband on the old 50's style stool in the restaurant two doors down from the College. She leaned over to plant a soft peck on Jacob's cheek. 'You've got a bit of excitment in your face too. What's up?'

'Oats offered me a job as his admin assistant.'

'You got to be kidding!'

'No seriously. John is retiring or moving upstairs and Oats will be the new Director. He wants to create a post for me to work with him on streamlining cases.'

'I know my former boss. He wants to pick your brains. Just don't let him make you do all the work. He's famous for that.'

'I didin't say I would take it yet.'

'You will. The opportunity is too good to pass up. You will put in 150% in half the time. As long as you get credit for what you do...why not?'

'Thanks for being so understanding...I think. By the way, the Governor is holding a fancy dress retirement party for John. We've got an invitation.'

'To a Governor's Ball? Are you serious?' Hands on her chest, Cathy eyes began to sparkle before a worried frown appeared. 'What am I going to wear?'

The efficient wife, of months past, disappeared. Cathy was excited about the possibility of a special night out. Jacob had not seen her react to a party like this. The thought of dressing up seemed to spur her into a frenzy. He watched as her mind ticked over dresses, shoes, hairdos. Screeching like a lovesick teenager when she realized that she had nothing suitable to wear. For the next three hours, as they sat and ate dinner, walked along the city streets, observed life in the Village, she talked non stop about what it would mean to dress up. Jacob was perplexed. His calm sensible wife disappeared to be replaced by a hand wringing chatterbox. He had seen her obsess a little for the wedding ceremony, but this was a new Cathy.

Giving up on trying to steer her energy into a romantic end to their evening, he let her talk on. Her excitement was communicable. He felt happy for her but his desire to make love to Cathy faded. They returned home with dresses and shoes still the major topic of conversation. They were hardly halfway up the stairs when Cathy stopped suddenly.

'Jacob I will be up in a minute. I want to talk to Mom.'

* * *

Jacob reversed his steps. If Cathy intended to talk with his mother he might as well visit with his Dad. Listening intently for the sound of his father's heart beat, he followed it to the kitchen where Vincent was bent over the table scouring a series of maps. He sat heavily in a stool, frustration oozing from every pore.

'More woman problems?' Vincent asked, knowing full well the look on his son's face.

'Dad, what am I missing?'

'Nothing Son. It's best to just sit back and wait. The time will come when their needs are manifest. Then you act on whatever is required.'

'It's all about clothes. Dad, what did you think the first time you ever saw Mama dressed up?'

Vincent looked up from his contemplation of the maps. His eyes wandered to the left seeking long forgotten memories. He frowned.

'I know it's a long time ago but surely you must remember something special about at least one time.'

'Jacob there are so few times I remember them all. I just had so little thought about clothes. She always looked beautiful to me. I do remember when Henry and Lin Pei got married. They were a couple from China town who had to fight to save their love and be together. On their wedding day, your mother looked as lovely as I had ever seen her but it was the look in her eyes more than the clothes she wore.'

'And the others?'

'I saw her in a beautiful dress at a Hallowe'en party. Unfortunately, I didn't really pay much attention to her.'

'How is that possible Dad? I thought you loved Mama from the first time you saw her.'

Vincent chuckled. It had been quite a while since he relived those memories. Life was so full. He was never sure that he wanted to look back when much of the past was still overshadowed by the loss of Catherine for so many years. His eyes returned to the present. It was clear that Jacob wanted to hear more.

'I did love her but at that time she was still out of reach for me. She went to the party with her father and I went to meet another woman, who was a favourite author of mine. She was visiting from Ireland and I was determined to speak with her. I ended up spending the night with your mother but we had quite a lot of drama in between. Where ever your mother was, life was always challenging.'

Vincent was puzzled by the look on his son's face.

'You never told me that story. And you never said you spent the night with my mother before now.'

'Don't get the wrong idea.' Vincent threw up his hands as a disclaimer. 'We just walked around uptown, enjoying the sights and sounds of Hallowe'en in New York. At dawn, we went our separate ways.'

'I see. Going back to my original question then, since we love them no matter how they look, why is it so important to them?'

Vincent sighed knowing that he had no valid answer. A shrug dismissed the obvious. The two men would remain perplexed about the mysteries of women. Vincent became serious again.

'I want to show you something Jacob. Our recent activities with Kardin made me realize how vulnerable we are. This is what I am looking at.'

Jacob abandoned all plans for the night and turned his attention to the underground channels on the map laid out on the table. The sound of laughter drifted down the hall. His wife and mother were happily engorssed in a discussion.

* * *

'Mom, I have always wanted to live the Cinderella story. My wedding day was different. It was kind of sacred, and deeply spiritual but a Governor's ball is pure excitement.'

'Can I tell you that I also received an invitation. I was surprised to receive it, then I completely ignored it. I didn't think about going at all because, of course Vincent.....but I love your own excitement around this.'

'Come with us Mom. Let Dad stay home and watch the girls. Wouldn't you love to dress up and go out again?'

'Part of me would love to go. I don't know if I can still be a part of that world.' It has been so long and yet so short.' Catherine allowed a moment of reflection as she often did when comparing the relatively short time between her conscious past and present. 'How would you like to look Cathy?'

'Dramatic! Along with my Cinderella obsession, I have harboured a secret desire to generate the same effect as Sandy did when Danny saw her at the state fair.'

'What?'

'Haven't you ever seen the movie Grease? I guess not', Cathy conceded remembering the same lost time frame. 'I just want my 'dress up look' to generate the same response in Jacob.'

'For what reason? He loves you already, more than you could even imagine.'

'Yes, I know but if you ask him to describe me, he'ill say I am steady, reliable, lovely but not dramatic. I want to make him look at me like Danny looked at Sandy.'

'I don't understand it Cathy but let's watch the movie and then we'll go shopping. I was often teased about only being good for fashion law. I think I still have an eye for the dramatic. Your excitement is so contagious. I may even consider going, if I find the right dress.'


	2. Chapter 2

Jacob stared at his unrepentant sleeping wife. He wondered how she could have toned down her excitement enough to fall asleep. He stifled a further rise of disappointment. After spending the day feeling abandoned, he had been the one to get caught up in the activities of his father. He never knew when Cathy crept upstairs to bed.

Removing his clothes quickly, he took a shower and climbed into bed, carefully avoiding any disturbance. All his earlier efforts, aimed at trying to steer his wife into a romantic evening, faded completely as he sensed the rhythmic ebb and flow of her chest in the semi darkness. He lay stiffly on his side of the bed.

'Are you ever going to roll over and hold me?'

'I thought you were sound asleep.'

'And I thought you had abandoned me.'

'I'm not going to reply to that. You have been off in some other fashion world all afternoon and evening.'

'What were you and Dad talking about?' she said, her laughter fading as she sensed Jacob's disappointment. She had really been in another world, excited about a ball gown, to the exclusion of her husband.

'We were talking about the tunnels. He is not happy that we were so vulnerable to Kardin or anyone else who might want to overpower us. In the far corner of the basement, he found a connection to the upper chambers. He wants to explore a viable escape route in case of anything. It will mean digging out a wall.'

'Is there any danger to us Jacob?'

'Not immediately but the possibility exists. He just wants to be prepared.' Jacob paused waiting for a follow up comment. When she didn't respond he ventured a tentative question. 'What did you talk about with my mother?'

'Do I have to share? I really don't want to and you wouldn't be interested in girl talk. I would prefer to finish what we didn't even start.'

'What would that be?'

Cathy's laughter turned serious as she felt her husband's arm encircle her body. Turning slowly she found herself held tightly and drawn closer. She sighed into the darkness. Later her sighs would become ragged and breathless and endless.

* * *

The family breakfast became a truly enjoyable experience. Everyone's busy schedule kept them apart most days. Two times during the week they all agreed to try and meet for a lengthier meal in the morning and once in the evening to catch up on all the news. Jacob shared the information about his job but kept non committal in tone. His family was very encouraging. He sensed that his mother would have liked him to go to court more but Jacob didn't want to explain the difficulty of defending clients who were clearly guilty.

'Jacob if they tell you they didn't do it, why can't you defend them based on the information?'

'Not so simple Mama. You know the evidence must point in the direction of innocence. If it doesn't, then I find it hard to provide a good defense.'

'Would you rather be a prosecutor?'

'No. I am happy with the research part of it. I feel that even if they are guilty, I can look at the case and get the best defense for them based on models and standards from previous cases. You know, in law, mitigating circumstances don't matter but they can become a part of understanding the criminal mind. I hope to work towards the steps which can be taken to ensure a just trial and follow up rehabilitation. I am more interested in changing direction than winning cases. What use is a win if recidivism continues or if people are left to flounder once they get out.'

Catherine nodded. She had been a prosecutor. Her approach had also been fair and balanced but she went after her cases with every sense of right and wrong. The waters of justice were not so clear in defense.

'I understand son. You know best what will make you happy.'

Jacob leaned over and kissed his mother. He noticed that Cathy did not seem in a hurry to leave.

'I have something to do with Mom this morning Jacob. I will meet you later after school.'

Jacob didn't venture anymore comments. He smiled and shared another benign look with his father before leaving.

Vincent sensed that his presence was also superfluous. 'Do you need me today Catherine?'

'Later Vincent. Cathy and I have some catching up to do.'

The women and the two young girls went upstairs to watch the movie, which Cathy hoped would provide a clue to change her husband's view of her forever. She thought about the previous night and knew that he could not love her more. Their passion had been a satisfying delight to both of them. Still, Cathy sought some deeper sense of engagement from her husband.

The women watched the movie with intense scrutiny, observing the development of the relationship between the main characters. Even Mea and Cilla laughed and enjoyed the music. Sue, who declared that she used to dress and look like the reformed Sandy, declined to watch it again. At the end, Catherine laughed.

'I see what you mean. Well, I am sure that Sue will be able to work wonders on your hair but that outfit…'

'I don't want to look like her Mom. The style is too close to street dress of women who worked with my mother. I want no reminders of her life. I just want the dramatic look from Jacob and I don't know how to achieve it.

'I think I understand what you mean now. Day after tomorrow we'll go downtown and hunt for the perfect dress. I have a few phone calls to make first'

'Thanks Mom.'

* * *

Life in the Sanctuary had become very ordered. Much of the success of it came from Erin who managed the daily routines of the women with calm assurance. She monitored everyone who came and went, ensuring that they were well fed and rested. The ability to make a plan for the future seemed to elude many of the women. However those who thought they had no choices when they came down from above, were able to choose some pathway, based on their immediate needs, by the time they left.

Every morning, when Cathy visited the sanctuary, she and Erin would talk about the women and their concerns. Cathy would interview anyone new and follow up until the five allotted days were done. It was up to Erin to ensure that the women left when they felt able. The deadline was rarely negotiable but a quick turnover to some other sanctuary above allowed more women to be helped.

Very little animosity existed between the residents. An atmosphere of helpfulness was extended to all. It was an almost impossible model of care to fulfill and yet, for the most part, life was calm. Cathy knew there would be times when things got out of hand but the giants, although gentle, were able with mere presence alone, to stem any uprisings.

Merindia continued to be a part of the community above and below. She had taken on the task of being an aide to Brian in his efforts to obtain supplies for many shelters across the State. They had become a formidable team. None of the women knew the origin of their resources. They were grateful for the clothes, a little food and a warm comfortable bed. Cathy had no wish to be in contact with Brian. Merindia was an excellent go-between. She had her own reasons for continuing to work below.

Her father's failed bid to wed her to anther branch of the Bastet family left her skittish about the future. Virgil, who was to be her partner, had not liked being thwarted after negotiations were made in good faith. Both father and daughter tread a very fine line. Merindia was happy and productive, still startled by the profound change in her father. Her contribution made it possible for many women to leave the sanctuary better than when they came.

Once their morning conference was over, Cathy, who was still feeling relaxed and dreamy, lingered a little with Erin.

'You seem kind of different today Cathy. Has something happened? Are you pregnant?'

'No. Jacob and I aren't ready to have kids yet. Mea and Cilla are enough of a handful for now. I need a lot more practice before I can become a mother. I don't know how Mom does it.'

'I don't either.'

Cathy looked at Erin. There was always an underlying sadness about her. 'Do you have kids anywhere Erin?'

'Maybe, I don't know.'

The tone was dismissive and Cathy left it alone. Erin was always reluctant to talk about herself. She picked up the thread of Erin's earlier comment. 'I am happy today because Jacob and I are going to a fancy dress ball. I don't have a clue what to wear but the thought of it is making me nervous and excited.'

'You're a tall girl. If you get a few highlights in your hair and wear it Grecian style with a matching dress you'll be stunning. Accentuate the green of your eyes and gold in your hair.'

'What do you mean? Do you know about fashion Erin?'

'You're top heavy. Lost a bit of weight I suppose. If you get a wrap style dress that widens your hips but binds to the bust, you will look perfectly proportioned. Here let me show you.'

To Cathy's surprise, Erin grabbed a blank sheet of paper and with a few strokes, outlined a simple sheath type dress which would provide a dramatic flattering look to any shape. Erin handed the sheet of paper to Cathy. Her look discouraged any further questions.

'I'll take this with me when we go shopping. Thanks Erin.'

The older woman grunted and got up. Perplexed by the complicated enigmatic woman, Cathy followed her instincts and declined to push for any confidences. Erin deserved to have her privacy respected. Cathy said goodbye and left for her afternoon classes.

* * *

The weeks leading up to the Governor's ball were hectic. Cathy worked hard to complete her spring semester at school. Knowing that she would be completely done by the end of the summer spurred her on. She had plans to expand her work below by doing some additional community resource work above.

Jacob, who accepted the post with Oats, started looking at ways and means of making the job a real useful tool for the department. In his conversation with Eric, he was told a few simple rules which would make a productive working partnership.

_Don't sit in the same office space. People use you to get to the boss._

_Have your own communication tool, which only the two of you use. _

_Document every conversation and every meeting then secure your diary in a safe place._

_Listen and learn to read between the lines._

Jacob thought the simple rules made sense. He spent some days unobtrusively watching Oats in his daily habits before taking any big steps toward change. The promotion would not take effect until after the ball.

He found an office space which currently housed some old files and papers. It would be close to Oats new office. He didn't want to be bothered by the comings and goings of daily traffic in and out of the director's office and he didn't want to be close enough to have Oats breathing down his neck.

Jacob steered clear of being centrally located in the main hall. His style of reading and typing astounded those who had an opportunity to observe him. He didn't want any more questions. When the work for the office was done, he could work on his own degree in Naturopathic Medicine. He wasn't sure what it would mean but the knowledge of how the body functions from a normal scientific perspective would help his own intuitive knowledge.

The space was really not designed to be an office. It had not been cleaned or painted for the Attorney General's visit last year. Jacob remembered the tall striking man who stopped at his desk to say a few words and ask about his mother. He was far too good looking to be anything other than a playboy, jet setting around the world. Jacob didn't know if there was a 'type' which fit his demeanour but the man seemed cultured, well spoken, and gracious. Jacob had no wish to peg the AG into any slot, but Patrick Ronan DelCassian was not a man to dismiss easily.

The walls and contents of the room Jacob chose were not going to be dismissed easily either. It would take some cleaning to get it into shape. The door thankfully had a frosted window. Jacob went down to Oats to see what help the budget office would be willing to give for a cleanup. To Jacob's surprise, he was told it would be taken care of during the weekend. He would return Monday to start fresh in his new office.

For one moment Jacob felt as if everything in his life was out of his control. His wife and mother seemed to have developed this secret bond. It had to do with clothes. Then he was informed that his mother would be joining them to attend the ball. Now the office he wished to make his own would be prepared by someone else.

'Thanks Oats. I think I will just head back to my corner and keep out of everyone's way.'

'I guess your wife's been in a spin with the ball coming up next week.'

'How did you know?'

'Been there….done it! You've got the 'deer in the headlight look'. Best to stay out of it. By the way, I hear your mother will be attending.'

'Yes, and I am not sure why. I wouldn't have expected her to enjoy something like that. My Dad is wisely staying home with the girls.'

Oats just chuckled and shooed Jacob out the door. 'You got a lot to learn about women Jacob.'

'Apparently I do.'

* * *

Armed with Erin's simple design scribbled on a paper, Cathy and her newly excited mother in law went shopping at an elegant Manhattan establishment. It had exclusivity written all over it.

'How did you know about this place Mom.' Cathy held open the door before a young sales person took over the job.

'I was a bit surprised it was still here. I used to shop here all the time.'

'Here?' Cathy took in the opulence of the foyer. No actual clothes were visible, just comfortable leather chairs and frosted glass cubicles. She tried not to look either skeptical or astonished.

A short thin man came forward with a barely perceptible bow.

'Madam Wells. Welcome. May I seat you and offer tea?' Whether it was real or feigned, the accent added a surreal feeling to the whole process.

Cathy continued to stare but managed to look as if this kind of shopping was a regular occurrence in her life. She knew that somewhere along the way she would falter but for now it was an adventure to move in a different circle.

It took some time before the actual business of finding a dress was initiated. Polite conversation, a cup of light Earl Grey tea and tasty miniature homemade scones were part of the prepurchase ritual.

'Both my Daughter and I would like evening gowns for the governor's ball. My records may still be here but this is the first time for Cathy.'

'Madam, I have checked already. Indeed we have found the history of your purchases but the file says deceased. An unfortunate error, since you are clearly here?'

Catherine stifled a laugh. The statement ended on a questioning note. 'An error indeed. I have been living elsewhere for a long time. I recently returned to live in New York and thought I would resume my shopping habits in this unique store.'

'Madam, we are grateful.'

Cathy also knew that laughter would not be appropriate. She struggled to hold in her own mirth. The short man was dramatic and quite serious but did not adopt the effete manner of men who look after women exclusively. He declared in a polite, professional tone that Catherine would be a delight to dress. At the appropriate time, Cathy presented her own drawing. She was asked to stand and walk.

'Where did Madam obtain this drawing, if I may ask?'

'A friend. She thought the look might suit me.'

'She has an excellent eye. I think we have something that will fit you very well.' As soon as he spoke, another younger man appeared. 'Henri, first bring out number 22 and 31 for Madam Wells. Then find 16, and 41 for Madam…?'

'Wells'

'Of course.'

As soon as the dresses appeared, Cathy got very serious. This was high fashion, truly a haute couture experience. This was how women with money were dressed to perfection. It was not her idea of the way to shop but the feeling of being pampered, of getting clothes that fit and looking like a fashion model all served to bolster Cathy's faltering confidence that she could indeed be the Goddess her husband would desire above all.

Three hours later, Cathy couldn't believe the money which was spent but knew as soon as she saw dress #41, in a warm sage colour almost exactly as Erin had deemed suitable, she would never feel the same about herself or her body. It was as if Erin's vision and design had come to life. She was fitted with shoes, matching gloves and offered ideas for the perfect hair do.

'A final fitting at the end of the week, if you please and then the dresses will be delivered to your home. By the way Madam Wells, I like the work of your designer. If she has any more ideas I would be happy to see them. Her style reminds me of someone I knew long ago.'

Cathy promised to pass on the message to Erin. She wondered what kind of reaction the compliment would generate in her but gave little thought to it. Both women were escorted from the building floating on a cloud. Catherine's dress was no less spectacular. The two women giggled like school girls. For Catherine, it was a return to the well-to-do roots of her past. She spent with reckless abandon, acknowledging even then, that in the morning light it would bring some inner discontent. The opportunity to give special meaning to Cathy's Cinderella story was worth the time and effort. She was, after all, her real Godmother. To help make a dream come true was little enough recognition for all the missed times in both their lives when a mother's much needed love and guidance were absent.

'Is it alright if I don't feel guilty?'

'I think we can both consider that finding the perfect dress is fulfilling expectations. We shouldn't feel guilty about accomplishing a goal.'

'Jacob may not be happy about the cost of the dress.'

'I'm not telling him and it's my treat to you. The less he knows before hand the less likely he is to be worried about it.'

'Ohhh….I can hardly wait!'

'Me too!'

Mother and daughter-in-law walked arm in arm along the high street. They would soon be picked up by Carl. It was necessary to shake off some of the excitement of the afternoon before going home. Neither woman wanted to spill the beans early and containing her excitement from her loving husband was getting harder every day.


	3. Chapter 3

'Honey, I don't know if I can do justice to this dress. It's spectacular!'

'C'mon Sue. Don't bail on me now. You can do it. I know you can.'

The three women stood and stared at the shimmering vision which was to be Cathy's gown. They had already praised the dress Catherine was to wear. She had chosen a traditional black gown, with silver beading at the bodice. A bolero top and three quarter length sleeves would hide her still thin arms. The style of the dress gave a little more definition to her body but Catherine remained a few pounds below an acceptable weight. It was Cathy's dress however which held everyone spellbound.

'All this is to get a look from your husband?'

'Well yes….a kind of forever look. I know what I mean even if no one else gets it. I want it to be a moment which he will never forget.'

'That young man already loves you to death.'

'I know Sue. Mom said much the same thing but I……' Cathy trailed off, wondering if she had set herself up for a big disappointment. _Sure the dress was incomparable. But, what if he only remembered the dress? It was supposed to compliment me and not be the memorable for itself_. Cathy's thoughts started to make her feel very silly and very unsure.

Catherine sensed the change. 'Come on Cathy. You know what you want. Let's look at some styles and see if there is something we can agree on for a hairdo. We only have 24 hours to make a decision. Feeling somewhat deflated, the women closed the closet door on the two gowns and went to sit in the living room looking through books.

'Mom did you know that your appearance tomorrow is causing some excitement? There are a few people who are anxious to see you again.'

'Anyone in particular?' Catherine's tone was offhand. She had made very little contact with any of her old friends. She wanted to reconnect, but her life with Vincent and the girls was still too new to branch out much. There were so many contacts from her old life, work, and social circle. Reconnecting meant giving up precious time. Now it was her turn to second guess her motives. She had originally wanted to go in support of Jacob's new position. In retrospect, she could sense the need for her own emotional crutch as she made her debut back into the world of lawyers, justice and government.

'There are a few colleagues from your old days at the Prosecutor's office. Joe saw to it that everyone knew you would be coming. Jacob mentioned that the AG is an old friend. Then there's the Governor himself, who knew your father, I think Oats said.'

'Too many! I will be bombarded or left entirely alone. I am not sure which I prefer. I do wish Vincent could go. It would be wonderful to dance with my husband again.' The wistful tone clearly indicated that none of the old friends held as much sway as a chance to be swept up in the arms of the man she loved.

The women fell quiet. Only the rustle of turning paper broke the silence.

* * *

'Dad, you have to be careful about disturbing the foundation of the house. Any heavy equipment or material could potentially create cracks in the wall.'

'I would go down and under. It is essential to have an escape route. We live different lives in this house Jacob and our attachments to the world above and below make it imperative that we can communicate effectively with both, for our safety and theirs. '

'It would be safest to do the work by hand then, or using a small machine. What does Mom think?'

'If she could get beyond dresses and hairdos she might have an opinion.'

Vincent's dry humour elicited a chuckle from Jacob. 'Are you sure you don't want to come?'

'I'm sure your mother will have lots of company while you and Cathy dance. I need to stay with the girls.'

'You don't really. Sue can look after them.'

'Jacob, Sue has to have a life too. She and Henry have plans. The girls will be with me.'

The tone was final and Jacob backed off. His father could be as single minded as Cathy. When he set his mind to something and all his energy stayed within him, focused on the issue at hand. Living above held a strange and new kind of resourcefulness. It was easier to manage safety below. Vincent felt vulnerable in Catherine's world.

Their recent foray in to the world of crime and gang warfare left him very nervous. The family had stayed safe while Vincent, Diana and Jacob went looking for Kardin but the threat was high. Vincent had always gone above in protection of his tunnel family knowing they were safe below. Rarely did intruders come into their chambers. In his new world, death could be on the other side of the door. He had deemed it too risky not to have an underground escape route.

Father and son continued to walk around the spacious basement looking at the floor and walls. The map indicated a good chance of connecting with the upper tunnels at a certain point. There was a small crawl space in one corner. It did not match any paths on the map. Jacob walked around carefully, placing his hand along the wall as he circled the room. In the south corner of the house he stopped and tapped.

'Dad, this wall has a hollow spot behind it.'

Vincent joined his son. On their knees they started at the bottom and worked their way up tapping to elicit a change in sound. They estimated about four and a half feet up. Both men pushed against it to see if the walls were weak. There was no release of pressure.

'Stand back Dad. I want to try something.'

Putting his hands on the wall, Jacob felt around for the outer edges. When he perceived the dimensions of the space, he leaned against it directing energy in towards the brick. It took some minutes but both men were startled by cracking sounds. Jacob stepped back and nodded at his father. Vincent closed his fist and pushed inwards against the drywall. The sound of a brick falling confirmed the existence of the hollow space.

'Dad we don't know what's behind there. It could be anything. Let's wait until after the ball to open it up.'

'Do you sense something?'

'Let me say this…. if there has been any crime committed and the evidence lies behind these walls, we will have to call the police and report it. I don't have any choice. I am an officer of the court.' Reaching out his hand he stayed any movement in Vincent's arm. 'I am serious Dad.'

'We live by different rules up here it seems.'

'Yeah, it could be just a pile of empty beer bottles but there may be something else.'

The wall hadn't cracked open on the drywall surface, but there was an indentation. To avoid curiosity getting the better of anyone, they covered the site with a half empty bookshelf.

'I'll get a couple of men up next week and we will explore. I promise Son. I'll wait.'

'Do you think it's safe to go up now?' Jacob asked pointing upwards at the space where the women were discussing the Ball.

'We will be told if it isn't.'

* * *

Jacob spent the Saturday morning below, first with young Riley working on an assignment for school, then with his Grandfather. They sat in his library going over some new reading books. Jacob deemed it wise to stay out of the way of the women. Vincent was busy with some errands. One of the girls from below was helping out with Mea and Cilla. All of Sue's time and attention was centered on dressing the two 'Belles' of the ball.

The evening would be very formal. A fancy dress costume would not be adequate. Jacob would have to wear a tuxedo. Even as he passed the time with Jacob senior his mind drifted back to his wedding day some months previously. His wife had been a vision in white. He couldn't imagine how she could be more beautiful. Ignoring all common sense, he was still able to intuit the importance which Cathy attached to attending this function.

'You are very pensive today Jacob. I would have thought that excitement ……?'

'Oh I am Gramps…well a little. This day really belongs to Cathy and Mama.' Jacob shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for words. ' Is there anything I should say or do? I just don't want to get into trouble for missing an important cue. Remember how misguided I was about the wedding?'

'You did fine Jacob. Just remember that formal gowns need a very sensitive and prosaic compliment. Much effort is put into looking just right. You must say the right thing. You also need an exquisite flower to match the dress. Did you get a corsage?'

"No….do I need one?'

'Better run up to the flower shop. You must indeed have a flower and if you don't know the colour of her dress, pick white.'

Happy to be active, Jacob hugged his grandfather and ran above. He hoped the flower shop would have something. He thought it was wonderful that his grandfather knew so much about women. He didn't know what kept him from seeking the elder man's counsel earlier.

* * *

It was Cilla who chose the hairstyle for the dress. She crept up on Cathy's lap the day before while they had been looking at pictures in a magazine. 'Catty, catty!' she exclaimed pointing at a model who bore a slight resemblance. Now, looking at her reflection, Cathy had to wonder at the intuitive awareness of the little girl. Her hair had been swept back softly and wound in a feathery knot at the side of her neck. The end of her long hair passed through the knot and hung softly over her shoulder. Sue had done a remarkable job with the makeup. Cathy almost didn't recognize herself.

She stepped into the sage/aquamarine dress. Its cascading folds gave off shimmering highlights as she moved. The beaded bodice glistened in the spring sunlight shining through the window. Simple wrist bands complimented her long slim arms. Sue was pulling the last of the ties in the back ensuring the bodice was held in place just as Catherine mounted the last step. They both planned to make an entrance, gliding gracefully down the stairs to Jacob. As the minutes ticked by, Cathy's nervousness increased. She felt herself hyperventilating without understanding why. She deliberately slowed her breathing telling herself over and over that Jacob loved her no matter how she looked.

A calm settled on Cathy when the closing door downstairs heralded the arrival of their escort. Vincent had also returned home to see his wife off to her first public engagement. Rob had been adamant that he would not take them in the van. A shiny limousine waited outside the door. Catherine appeared first, elegant, sophisticated and poised. She made her way slowly down to where her husband stood. She could see tears well up in his eyes.

'Catherine, my wife. What a fool I am to let you leave here alone. You are exquisite. I have seen you more beautiful but never so divine.' He reached out his hand to assist her down the final steps. He kissed her hand lovingly, before offering her an intertwined white and red rose corsage. He whispered something meant only for her before heading towards the front door. They both stood back in the foyer and waited to see Cathy.

Jacob had heard his father's flowery speech. He knew the words came easily to Vincent who was, at heart, a poet. He would never have trouble finding the right thing to say. Jacob felt tongue tied and muddled. The little speech he rehearsed while trying to find just the right corsage was totally inept, would never do justice to his wife, even if she only looked half as good as his mother. He bowed his head to hide the inadequacy of his feelings. The rustle of her gown forced him to look up at last.

Cathy often heard her husband talk of many things, outside of her knowledge or understanding. The energy he spoke of, which brings dreams, made no sense to her. The action of herbs on the physical body meant nothing as long as it worked. The love which allowed people like Vincent and Catherine to find each other was lovely but the 'being together' was all that mattered in her mind. Everything in her world was concrete, solid. She could not fathom the force of an unseen resource called energy until the moment when Jacob looked up at her. She had no idea what she expected. What she got was a first taste of the power of love manifested, not through contact, but through the sheer force of energy which passes between two people in love.

Jacob's indrawn breath at the first sight of her was like being seduced into an embrace of swirling tides. For a fleeting moment, the movie title words, _waiting to exhale_ came to mind. As she released the pent up breath of weeks, she could almost feel Jacobs's liberation of the senses, meeting her own. _'I've done this before, in a different time and place with Jacob. We are one, always have been, always will be.' _Before her thought was complete, he slowly mounted the steps. It was like watching a movie of herself and her husband in slow motion. Their eyes never broke contact.

'_My Lady, I have waited forever to see you again.'_

_Did Jacob say those words or did I imagine them? _She looked into the blue of his eyes. Not a sound had passed between them. Jacob took her hand. Like his father, he bent over to place a kiss but his lips touched only the ring which proclaimed them married. In a flash, one of their previous lives passed in front of her eyes. Cathy knew in that moment that what was lost between them centuries ago, had been found. Still, not a word was exchanged but the look which they shared spoke volumes.

They came down the stairs as one. Nothing else needed to exist for them. Later there would be food, dancing, and love. All those things would only solidify what was already there. The spell was unbroken and the die cast for their life together. Cathy was too bemused to fully realize how profound the moment had been but she knew it was everything she expected and more.

Later in the limousine very few words were exchanged. The exotic orchid which Jacob had found captured all the colours of her dress. They held hands tightly hardly daring to look at each other. Catherine watched her son and daughter in law with great curiosity. Their love was obvious. Jacob had not faltered. Somehow he was able to say without words, exactly what Cathy wanted to hear. She smiled and nodded. They were right for each other.

Cathy was still spellbound with emotion. Every missed prom, every date that didn't happen and every pain she experienced in her lonely teenage years melted away. She felt as if she had been holding her breath all her life. The words came back to haunt her again. _I was waiting to exhale, just like in the movies. I never knew what that meant. Now I do_

None of the occupants of the car had given much thought to the night ahead. The Governor had invited 200 special guests to an early cocktail reception. He intended to have a receiving line of several top members of the State government. It was a way to greet influential members of the community. The night's event was a fund raiser. He thought the personal touch might elicit a little more giving. Many donors liked a few moments of acknowledgement from their representitives.

The Wells party was among the first to arrive. They were unsure of Catherine's stamina. If she was overwhelmed, it would be important to find a comfy place to sit early. Rob opened the door to the limousine outside the Manhattan hotel venue for the event. He had picked a suit which gave him quite an official look. Cathy managed a smile and a wink for his formal efforts. As she got out of the limo, she accepted her husband's left arm while Catherine stood on his right. Together they marched down a lovely red carpet. All three had jitters somewhere. The hotel itself was brilliant with lights. Each mounted the stairs to the front entrance with some trepidation. Jacob gave each hand a gentle squeeze.

'We are going to do fine. Don't worry.' It was the right thing to say but even as the concierge came forward to greet them, the jitters were turning into fully fledged butterflies in his stomach.


	4. Chapter 4

'Cathy Chandler! I am delighted to see you and even more delighted that you could join us tonight.'

'Governor, thank you for inviting me.'

'You used to call me Howie.' Catherine looked up and down at the man before her. When she had known him before, he was an intense young man in his mid twenties, a few years older than her. He had come to Intern at her father's law firm. Now, the Governor was a portly, balding, grey- haired senior, at the pinnacle of his career. She laughed lightly at the notion that he could ever be called by that childish name again.

'I called you that when you **were** Howie. Now, you are the Governor. My congratulations to you.'

'Let's try to get a few minutes to talk tonight. I ….'

The lineup was getting longer by the minute. Howard Smirconish, the recently elected Governor of the state was intent on making contact with Catherine. They had a history together and he was anxious to hear about her life experience. He knew that lingering too long with any one person would create a back log, he reluctantly let go of her hand. A shrug indicated his disappointment before he turned to smile at the handsome man who was Catherine's son.

'Good to meet you Jacob. I guess you know that I knew your mother way back when?'

'I didn't until recently, Sir, but she was looking forward to seeing you. And may I present my wife, Cathy Wells.'

Cathy was hard pressed not to curtsey. It felt like a regal ball. She smiled and held out her hand.

'Pleased to meet you Governor.'

And so it went down the line. The VIP's who were shaking hands didn't always seem happy, but they smiled and did everything to coax their constituents into parting with some cash to support the 'Stop Hunger!' Charity. More than one person might have thought that the cost of the evening's food would feed several children for days, weeks even, but the idea of dressing up and getting together was too good to miss. It gave the appearance of unity and community service on an important issue.

Jacob kept a watchful eye on his mother as she made her way. It had been his intention to introduce her, but she would get ahead of him. Somehow she seemed to manage. He tried hard not to forget that this was her world.

The tall charismatic man who had asked about her weeks before stood in line just in front of Senator Joe. His eyes lit up when Catherine approached.

'Cathy, Cathy….you are a wonderful sight. I never thought I would see you again.' He grabbed her hand in both of his and leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

'Ronan. You have not changed a bit. If anything you look more distinguished.'

'I haven't been Ronan for awhile. That changed after Dad died. I wanted to be called Patrick. Are you Catherine now too?'

Jacob saw his mother nod. She seemed moved by this encounter.

'Can we talk later. I'll find you. We have so much to catch up on.'

'Yes, we do. I'd like that.'

'May I present my wife, Gabriella. This is Catherine Chandler Dear. She's an old friend from school.' The statement was not a true representation of their long relationship. Catherine showed no surprise at the brevity of the description. In a moment of insight, she realized that his wife had issues. The hand extended by the woman was limp and almost insulting. She was a dark haired, exotic beauty whose full figure was wrapped in an almost embarrassingly tight white sheath. Her large breasts threatened to burst out of the bodice any moment. The red lips pouted good evening. Clearly she was not enjoying herself.

'Pleasure.'

'Likewise.'

Catherine moved on to Joe's warm hug. 'How are you Cathy. I wish I could see more of you.'

'You know where I am.'

'And you know where I am too. Before you ask, Diana is here. She is sitting inside already. You know how much she hates these lineups. I'll see you later. We'll be sitting together.'

Catherine nodded and moved on.

Jacob's encounter with the Attorney General was warm. He seemed to want to say more but turned politely, to shake hands with Cathy at Jacob's introduction. Gabriella DelCassian had a provocative little smile for Jacob. He ignored it, introduced his wife and continued to the next person. She had an aura around her which felt uncomfortable and her blatant sexuality was unsettling. Jacob had worn gloves to minimize his contact with people. Even through the material he felt a sense of discomfort. The energy between the AG and his wife was almost nonexistent.

John Civco and Oats were located near the end of the line. Oats was only too happy to leave the handshaking duties and escort Catherine to a nearby chair. She was charmed by his solicitous behavior.

'Thank you Kurt. I wouldn't mind a glass of water.'

Jacob stared at the retreating back of his boss. His look was puzzled. _Does everyone love my mother?, _he wondered. When Oats returned, clearly determined to stay with Catherine, Jacob and Cathy wandered off to say hello to a few friends of their own from the office. Hardly anyone recognized the woman Cathy had become. Her weight loss and fancy dress may have changed some aspects of her appearance but she was also softer, less pushy than she had been as Oats secretary. A few of her former colleagues were still cool towards her but she held her own. What had made her retreat into herself during those first years at the PD's office was more fear around her mother's positive HIV status than being a snob. Cathy was a caring, giving person once she let down her guard.

Many of those who challenged her then were softened by the detailed and emotional blog she kept online during Mea's first liver crisis. It was that subject which many asked her about. She was happy to report that the little girl was doing well. Cathy didn't want to admit to herself how much she dreaded 'making nice' with people who had talked about her behind her back all the time. She owned some of the responsibility but was determined not to hold back on opportunities to show another side of herself. With the ice broken early, she was able to move around with and without Jacob. He kept a watchful eye on his mother but Oats seemed to have things well in hand.

* * *

The Governor's ball was full of exciting and interesting people but the biggest attraction was the fund raising efforts. There was a silent auction in another room. Everywhere there was someone selling tickets for raffles of various donated gifts. It was all designed to find ways for those in attendance to spend money. Jacob had already set out his budget for the evening. He had no need of anything more but looked around politely.

Dinner was served promptly at 7 p.m. As the host indicated it was to be a full night of activities. He wanted to save a good portion for dancing. The food was not heavy. It was served banquet style with course after course of snippets. Jacob, who was a hearty eater found the tediousness of it tiring. His eyes scanned the room often picking up impressions here and there. Once or twice he caught sight of the Attorney General whose animated features lit up his face, unless his wife was at his side. Gabriella continued to look as if the whole event was a bore.

Once or twice, he also caught his mother glancing in their direction. She had a worried look. Clearly Patrick DelCassian held some special place in her heart. Jacob knew some of his mother's life but most of his impressions came from Vincent whose view of Catherine was limited to what he saw of her, mostly in the tunnels, during their early relationship. She had been a moneyed socialite, enjoying the company of the rich and famous until her slashing accident. That event changed her whole life and way of thinking.

After the dinner mercifully ended and the speeches began, Jacob noticed that the Attorney General and his wife had disappeared. He gave it no further thought. Many dignitaries were compelled to attend several events in a single night. Putting in an appearance, at the very least, was mandatory for this event. The co-sponsors along with the Governor were members of the legal profession. As the time wore on Jacob who had a surprise for his wife, became increasingly nervous. Not one to second guess himself, he suddenly wondered if he had lost his mind.

The music for the evening was provided by a famous New York band. The singers were several graduating students from the Arts schools across the city. For many it would be a big opportunity to showcase their talents. Each had a skill set and repertoire of songs which they could sing on request. As part of the charity, attendees were offered an opportunity to pay for the privilege of requesting a song, to be performed in honour of the couple. A small portion of the donation would assist the student in managing school fees or loans. Jacob had no idea when his song would be announced. He had pre-ordered something for his wife. At the time he thought it might be a foolish thing to make them stand out in a crowd. After watching Cathy walk down the stairs he felt more than ever that she was meant to be honoured. He still could not get over how ethereal she looked. He felt as if time stood stil, the moment he saw her. Justified or not, he was getting more nervous by the minute.

Catherine, with Oats' kind assistance circled the room off and on saying hello to colleagues and friends from her early years. Her eyes sparkled and a ready smile lit up her face when memory returned and small things she thought forgotten were readily available. Much of the evening was about her own recovery. She hoped to recapture the lost bits and pieces of her former life, which made her who she was. She was always cognizant of her missing husband but knew that his energy lingered close by. This event would have been a challenge for both of them.

'Catherine, I have been looking for you.' She turned to see Patrick at her side.

'I thought you had gone.'

'Gabriella had a migraine. She chose to go home. I am co hosting this event. I thought I should stay.'

'Too bad about your wife. Let's find a seat and catch up.' Catherine smiled at Oats. 'Thank you Kurt. I will be back' she said disengaging her arm.

Oats face was a study in consternation but he bowed out graciously, deferring to the superiority of a shared history. He went to sit with Diana, whose husband was also working the room.

'Your son has a bright future in his department.'

'I just want him to be happy Patrick. He is smart, even if I do say so myself. I take no credit for the man he has become. He was raised entirely by his father and grandfather.'

'Quite a remarkable story! He inherited an exceptional gene pool. 'Don't forget I knew you and your parents.' Patrick smiled and moved away from the more crowded area to another spot where they could talk. 'Where is your husband, or shouldn't I ask?'

'We adopted two girls who were left on the street to die. He is babysitting tonight.'

'Is there no end to your surprises Catherine? Where do you get the stamina?'

'Well, you said you knew my parents…. I have been blessed. It is as simple as that. Tell me about your father.'

'He died some years ago. I was still in private practice as he wanted. After his death, I moved into government and here I am.'

'Patrick, we were two lonely kids growing up. Both of us without mothers, both of us with busy working fathers. I was so glad to have your friendship.' Catherine placed a delicate hand on his arm. It was not meant to be provocative. Patrick covered it with his own and smiled at her.

'Catherine you meant the world to me.'

There was a moment of tenderness shared between old friends. Patrick's mood changed and he backed away slightly when Catherine asked about Gabriella.

'She's…she's different. We met in Brazil. You know my Dad loved to play Polo. Her father and mine were …..opponents on the playing field.'

'Patrick, you don't have to share this with me if it is painful. I asked because…I am interested in you.'

'Catherine our story is long and complex. I would love to share it with you. Now is not the time and place but I hope you will meet with me soon. Can we have a long lunch or late meal someday soon? I very much want to hear your story too.'

Many people saw when DelCassian leaned over to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. From a distance the kiss might have seemed quite intimate. When he stood up, his eyes searched for Oats, indicating an end to any further confidences. Jacob sensing something also approached his mother.

'Everything alright Mama?'

'Yes of course. It is just hard for me to catch up with everyone so quickly. Patrick and I go way back.'

Jacob offered his arm to Catherine and returned her to the table. The AG disappeared almost as quickly as he had reappeared.

* * *

The announcement of the _'song and_ _dance request'_ part of the evening activity was about to begin. The group at the table sat and waited to hear what song the band would play first.

'Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention for a moment' he intoned. 'Our band will intersperse requests with their own choices. Tonight we will start with an audience request from...…' He drew out the suspense while opening a white envelope. '......Jacob Wells for his bride Cathy. He has asked for a song originally sung by Josh Groban, performed tonight by Elizondo Batta. We will ask Jacob Wells and his wife to come out on the floor.'

Cathy had her hand over her mouth. She was shocked that Jacob had made such a public statement. It seemed so out of character. She loved him for it but was feeling shy and embarrassed to stand in the middle of a room of hundreds of people. Would they have to dance? She dreaded the next words once the applause died down.

'We thank you for your contribution. Your generous donation will help the students of one school to receive breakfasts for one month. We will also ask you to start the dance.'

'Jacob…what on earth?' Cathy whispered. She got into position hoping it was something familiar.

At the introductory notes, it was clear that Jacob had chosen a waltz. The song was not sung in English but the melody was beautiful. The work, which the pair had put into their wedding dance, came in handy. They twirled and circled the floor, all shyness forgotten. No one wanted to interrupt them as they moved about. Their dancing was as beautiful as the couple themselves. Catheirne watched with pride as Jacob swung Cathy around in a beautiful pirouette. The crowd murmured. At the end, the applause was thunderous.

'What did that song mean Jacob. It wasn't in English' she said, breathless with the exertion.'

'Gira Con Me Questa Notte.' At her puzzled look, 'You Rock my World!'

'Oh Jacob, I have never heard you talk like that. Really?'

'Yes. Really.' He kissed her hand to further applause.

* * *

Catherine watched her son and daughter-in-law dance with exquisite precision. She was immediately reminded of their wedding day and how graceful they were during the first dance. She and Vincent had also had a chance to be in each others arms again. He had held her tightly and twirled her around, very gently at first, then with increasing passion as he gauged her tolerance level. She sat wistfully wishing for a chance to let the music fill her. Oats had been kind enough to offer but she declined, citing her awkwardness with anyone but her husband. Jacob and Cathy stayed out on the floor. It was obvious that they were enjoying themselves immensely.

"Madame, if I may, would you care to dance?'

'Catherine hardly dared turn around. She knew that voice and could sense her husband's presence. She could not imagine how Vincent would look. Of late he had taken more steps to reveal himself in very limited public places, but he was still tentative. Originally when she decided to attend the night's festivities, she harboured a faint hope that he might join her at some point but to know he was truly here left her breathless.

Slowly she turned around. Her smile was mixed with some trepidation.

Vincent looked magnificent in a dark long coated tuxedo, his golden hair resting lightly on his shoulders. Clearly Sue had a hand in it glorious shine. He wore a loose tie at his neck. At the most challenging part of his face he seemed to have a prosthesis of some type. An electric smile lit up her face, at the twinkle in his eye.

'Come my love. I believe this dance is ours.'

Catherine placed her hand in the outstretched gloved one and rose to find herself wrapped in the loving arms of her husband. Even without the slightly altered face, Vincent would have stood out in a crowd. His height, grace, countenance and power all spoke of majesty. Oblivious to all, the happy couple joined their son and daughter-in-law on the dance floor. Catherine knew her feet never touched the ground.

After a short spurt of dances, they moved away to a corner to talk. Catherine touched the cheek of her husband, a question in her eyes.

'You have worn a mask many times to protect me. Now I wear one to protect you.'

'But how Vincent? It looks so real.'

'I hate to think about John Pater at all, but if I must then I acknowledge that he was a master of disguise. I wanted nothing from him except this skill, if it allows me to be with you.'

'You could have shared this with me.'

'I could have my love, but I need to feel comfortable with this even before I attempt to show myself to the world above. I fear you would not be honest with me.'

Catherine didn't reply. In truth she would have said yes to almost anything if it meant having her husband with her. Vincent knew her so well. She placed a hand on his arm.

The evening was warm. They moved out to a balcony where they could both observe the stars twinkling.

'How many times have we stood and looked out and tried to grasp the meaning of the universe in its glory? I have never wished to fly away to the moon or see anything beyond what I see in your eyes when you look at me.'

'Do you want to go home now Catherine?'

'Yes, I think I do.'


	5. Chapter 5

Cathy woke up suddenly to the sight of a little face inches from hers. 'Catty….wake up!'

'Cilla, what's wrong baby girl?'

'Mumum sleeping. Hungry'

Cathy eyes sought a clock. She had no idea what time it was. Jacob was sound asleep beside her. It was not unusual for Cilla to creep upstairs but it was odd for her to come at such an early hour, before anyone else was awake. Of course, the events of the previous night were different for her. Never before had all four of her main caregivers been out at the same time. Children sensed things differently. Cathy managed a weak smile, touching the soft flyaway hair in a gesture of comfort.

'You are an early bird' she whispered softly.

'Not a bird.'

It was obvious that the little girl was not only hungry but feeling alone. Tired as she was, Cathy got up. She had every reason to be happy. They all had a wonderful time at the ball. It couldn't have been more magical. Her eyes glazed over as the memories swept through her again. The little girl however, would not be denied.

'C'mon Catty.'

The pair wandered into the kitchen for juice and toast. It really was early. Cathy stifled an endless jaw breaking yawn. A cup of tea was badly needed. After a light snack, they cuddled on the couch. Cathy saw no reason to wake Jacob. She was soon napping, Cilla wrapped in her arms.

Not too much later, the shrill noise of the phone caused Cathy to jump up suddenly for the second time. Cilla, nearly fell to the floor as Cathy, disoriented from her unusual early morning wake-up and breakfast, stumbled towards the house phone.

'Hello….hello.'

'Cathy? For God's sake, wake up!'

'Oats…what're you doin? Do you know what time it is?'

'Never mind the clock. I need to speak with Jacob.'

'He's sleeping..'

'Wake him up Cathy. Now!'

The tone sent a wake up shiver down her spine. There was no need to call her husband. He had heard the sound of the phone and was already making his way into the living room. She handed him the instrument and went to comfort Cilla. Cathy hugged the little girl close as she listened to Jacob mumbling into the phone. In a heartbeat his demeanour changed.

'Are you serious?'

Cathy watched Jacob run his fingers through his hair pulling at the ends, a sure sign he was disturbed.

'About half an hour….'

Jacob hung up the phone and turned to face his wife. 'Big case,' he announced, raising his eyebrows. 'Oats wants me to meet him at the office.'

'Are you going to tell me what it is?'

'Cathy I trust you with my life but I have to ask you not to repeat what I am going to tell you, especially to my mother, not now or at least not yet.' He paused, not really waiting for her assent, but distilling the information in his own mind. 'The AG was arrested this morning.'

'What!??'

'It seems he murdered his wife last night.'

Cathy bit her lip. Stunned by the revelation she just stared at her husband, dumbfounded, hand at her mouth.

Jacob hurried in for a quick shower. He wasted no time in looking for a complete suit. Oats would be lucky to get a clean shirt and pants. The uptown trip was quick. No point waiting for slow public transit. He jumped in the nearest taxi.

* * *

The office, which Jacob would occupy, had been painted and set up, ready for him to begin work on Monday. He had not anticipated this type of orientation to the new job, but clearly a case of this magnitude would generate much public interest and intense scrutiny. Patrick DelCassian could afford the best legal mind in town. He wondered what the PD's office could do. He soon found out from Oats, who was also clearly agitated at this trial by fire.

It wasn't even Oats first official day on the job either but John Civco had already departed on an extended vacation. Oats had been slated to work in an acting capacity as director until midnight when he would officially become the new Chief.

The two men sat around in Oats office discussing the event. It seemed like a strange end to a night which began with such community spirit for the project, sponsored jointly, by the office of the Attorney General and the Governor.

'Every legal mind was in town for the ball. It seems like an odd time to commit a crime of this magnitude, but the best time if you want a choice of the greatest defenders.'

'Who picks the best time to kill someone? Especially someone as level headed as DelCassian. I remember him years ago. He was quietly brilliant in court. There is no shortage of Lawyers who would be happy to defend the AG.' Oats voiced his thoughts to Jacob.

'Then why would he even consider choosing a public defender? Could there be something in his past dealings with Lawyers which would make them shun him?'

'Who knows? He's got a tough job keeping track of so many things. He must have pissed off someone. Right now, I just know that it seems out of character for him to even consider committing murder.' Oats face was a study in distaste.

'Do we know what he intends to do?'

'Nope. I am waiting for Wesley to come in. The two of you will work this case.'

'Me? I thought you said….'

'Never mind what I said. Some people get what they ask for. He asked for you. You go! See what you can do to get through this mess.'

An hour later, Jacob sat with Wesley Durocher. He was a senior defender, obviously well versed in the ways of the law. They discussed a strategy. Durocher was well aware that he would only be baby sitting Jacob. He knew the young man's reputation. It was a credit to his maturity that he held no rancor. Wesley had always been supportive of colleagues working together for a common good. Oats had evidently thought a lot about the outcome and what it would mean. The new Chief placed a great deal of confidence in his young defender. There were just a few issues where an experienced head would be better. Durocher accepted the assignment and looked forward to working with the whiz kid. They continued to ponder the question of his choice of defender.

'I agree that he must have some concern about a reasonable defense. What would prompt him to seek counsel from the PD's office. I wonder if his money is tied up?'

'If he is found not guilty and comes back into the system then there will be questions about the conduct of the prosecution. It's a mess!'

'Is there something you know about him that I don't at this point?'

'Wesley he knew my mother. I am not sure how far back they go. She spoke with him last night at the ball.'

'We will check the timing of that once we get the police report. Jacob, I think this is going to be explosive what ever way we move on it. Are you sure you want to take this on?'

'I don't think I have a choice. Oats said he asked for me. I don't know if he just wants to see me or if he wants me to conduct his defense.'

'Well get down to holding and find out if you can see him. We need to get his statement and see about a bail hearing for tomorrow morning.'

Jacob entered his new office. He sat and tried to brace himself for what lay ahead. He was pretty sure that Gabriella DelCassian had a strange way of being. It was not an excuse to kill her. Someone didn't like her_. If her husband didn't do it, who would hate her enough to kill her?_ She was a provocative, bored housewife of a prominent man. Jacob realized that if the AG chose to plead not guilty, they would have to investigate her life to see what elements of danger, if any, dogged her. He tried to imagine what kind of scenario could play out between husband and wife that would lead to murder. _Crime of passion?_ _Surely the police must have acted with reasonable caution in gathering evidence. _

Jacob sat down to compose a few questions and end the cycle of thoughts going through his head. He could take the easy way out and access the knowledge he needed in other ways but it wouldn't get him any further ahead if he went to trial and couldn't prove his case.

'Facts!' The words rang out in his brain over and over. He knew that he would have to gather the information and prepare a defense that would prove his client's innocence. He also knew that he needed to do it the old fashioned way. No court of law would acquit anyone based on information gathered from energy fields. Jacob hoped that his gifts would come in handy but right now it was all about following procedure.

* * *

Somewhere in the mists of her mind, Cathy heard Sue calling for Cilla. She released her hold on the little girl and listened as she tiptoed back downstairs. The house rule for Cilla, and everyone else, was not to waken Cathy and Jacob in the mornings. For the most part Cilla would comply. On the rare occasions when she needed Cathy or Jacob's company, she would disobey the rule. Since she was normally a good child, Cilla was rarely punished for this minor misdemeanour.

Alone, Cathy found it difficult to fall back to sleep for the third time. She thought of Jacob and the implications of starting in his new role with a potentially explosive case on his plate. She knew that her husband would be capable of any challenge. Reminiscing about his first day on the job, she recalled how he refused to back down from an unfair work load. Jacob turned it into a positive action by making himself learn to do exactly what was asked of him. Cathy considered how he would feel in court, defending the State's top Lawyer. She yawned again, ready to lay down and imagine him as a young fiery attorney. Her heart raced making sleep impossible.

Cathy acknowledged that fatigue would catch up with her sooner or later, but she gave up trying to stay in bed. Sleep would not come. The Sanctuary community would need some support and she longed to share the evening's events with Erin, if she was interested. The style of dress had been a perfect choice. She wanted to pass on the compliment from the Couturier and perhaps learn a little more about Erin's life before she took to the streets.

Catherine and Vincent were still resting by the time Cathy made her way downstairs. She passed by the kitchen, letting Sue know that she would be out of the house for a couple of hours. It was a way of avoiding any conversation with Catherine in which she might be compelled to lie. No doubt, the reunion with a childhood friend would be a topic of conversation as well as Vincent surprising appearance. Catherine would be shocked by the change in the circumstances of Patrick DelCassian within a matter of hours. Cathy wondered how her mother in law would react. There were still aspects of her health and well being which were unknown. A sudden shock could be a set back. _Best to just stay away_ she thought.

The spring morning was already warm. Green was everywhere. The foliage in the park by now seemed glorious. Cathy stopped for some fresh fruits and herbs. A small pack of meat would enliven the day's soup pot. Despite the concern over the alleged murder charge, Cathy found it hard to be anything but lighthearted. A quick glance at the morning paper, in the stands along her route, did not indicate that the press had gotten hold of the potentially volatile news. Ignoring a situation which she could not alter, Cathy sent out a loving message to Jacob, from her heart and from her cell. Satisfied that she had covered all bases, she made her way down to the Sanctuary.

* * *

Armed with his set of questions, Jacob entered the lower jail, where for the first time in history, the Attorney General for the state was incarcerated. Patrick DelCassian was standing facing the tiny window in the upper part of the wall, as if seeking divine guidance. Jacob hesitated to interrupt the private moment. The black tuxedo pants and sparkling white shirt seemed incongruous with the surroundings.

'Sir, it's Jacob Wells. Can we talk now or is this a bad time?'

'When would there ever be a good time? Tell the guard to let you in.'

The situation was unusual. Lawyer/client contact was permitted in the rooms provided but the AG was kept away from the riff-raff who made up the population of Sunday morning jail cells. It meant that he had to be left in a holding cell. It was a small concession to him which would avoid contact by members of the press and other criminals. No one at the detention centre felt that the AG could really be guilty of the charges. He, of all people, should know better. His job was to set the moral standard for the way humans relate to each other.

The guard opened the cell door and allowed Jacob to enter.

Silence fell between the two men. Jacob waited sensing a need to absorb the energy of the man who stood before him, proud and resolute. He remembered the last time they were together. His mother had been deeply moved by their reunion. When he felt comfortable he spoke softly.

'I'm not sure why you picked me Sir, but you have to know that I don't have a great deal of experience. I will do what I can do help.'

'I chose you Jacob because you are one of the few people who will respect me enough to …..'

'To what sir?'

'To accept my decision and abide by wishes.'

'Only if it is in your best interests Sir.'

'Not as much of a push over as I thought.' DelCassian turned around then to face his young defender. 'Did you tell your mother?'

'No Sir.'

'We can drop the formality. My name is Patrick.'

'Yes Sir. Do you want to tell me what happened? If I am to mount a defense for you, I need to get started.'

'There will be no defense Jacob. I killed my wife. I strangled her to death last night. I just want to plead guilty, trial by Judge and…….and….'

DelCassian faltered. Jacob could feel the hesitancy and knew that he was lying. Usually, lies were concocted in support of a not guilty plea. Something was wrong.

'Sir, you said you killed your wife? You strangled her? I don't believe you.'

'You'll have to believe me Jacob. It is the **only **plea I will enter.'


	6. Chapter 6

'It's a lovely dress Cathy. Suited you.'

Erin didn't smile but looked intently at the gown. Her bony index finger touched the outlines of the bodice and the cascading folds with a caress, as if she could feel the fabric. She followed the line of the hair style. There was a tenderness in her touching.

'I appreciate your help Erin. I was kind of lost, not knowing what to choose. By the way, the couturier was impressed with your design. He asked me if…'

'I just do it for fun.'

'Did you ever do it professionally?' Erin didn't answer. Cathy wasn't surprised. Reticence was now, as much a part of her, as efficiency in managing the Sanctuary.

'I'm sorry. I know you don't like to answer questions. I just want to know you better without invading your privacy.'

'Why Cathy, I hardly know myself anymore. I have skills. Don't know where they came from. Sometimes I just don't have the answers.'

'Thanks for sharing that information. I don't want to pry and force you but…know what? I think I'll just shut up now and say thanks.'

Cathy had never seen Erin really smile until that moment. It lit up her eyes. There was something familiar about her. Cathy wondered if she might have seen Erin years before when she and her mother lived in the tunnel. Asking would be a waste of time. The question about history and events died on her lips. She smiled in response and moved on to topics of the day.

'There's a message here for you from Merindia,' Erin said handing a folded sheet of paper to Cathy. 'She's been a big help.'

'That's good to know Erin.' Cathy quickly scanned the note and smiled. 'She will be down later. I may go over the see Father and come back. It's been a few weeks since the last time we spoke.'

Erin nodded. The conversation about the Sanctuary continued until the women had addressed all the outstanding issues. Cathy was well pleased with how things were going. She trusted Erin. It appeared that the women who were in residence were coping well with their changed circumstances. Cathy determined that a few contacts would be needed at a shelter above because a couple of the women would leave in the morning. She sighed. Her mind wanted to wander back to the previous night but she returned her attention to Erin's final words.

'Cathy..... I liked thinking about clothes. I know we have our exchange box for the women, but sometimes things just don't fit. If I had a little hand machine..... maybe I could do something.'

'Thanks Erin. I will see what I can find.' It was a surprising offer. She kept her tone light in response, not wanting to make it a big deal. Internally, she considered it a big step for Erin to ask.

Cathy had two hours to make her way to the other end of the park and back before meeting Merindia. For some reason, she had a longing to visit with Jacob Senior and Mary. She was deliberately avoiding a return to the Brownstone. Her thoughts ran to Jacob. Mounting a credible defense for such a high profile case was sure to be quite a challenge, even for her brilliant husband. She had worked with Oats long enough to see many exceptional cases come and go. The defenders were always stressed by the intense scrutiny of the press and eventually the public. Murder seemed like such a drastic step to take, to end a relationship. _What on earth would a man of the court be thinking as he took the life of his wife?_ Cathy pondered the incomprehensible action as she made her way to the north tunnel and Father's chambers.

_

* * *

_

'Jacob I refuse to be a public scapegoat for every woman and man who has suffered in domestic violence.'

'There must be something in defense of your actions Sir?'

'There will be nothing. No motive exists for doing what I did. Each case has, before it, a set of circumstances. You can follow the trail to my actions but it will not change the fact that my wife…is dead. I killed her. I am tired now. I won't answer any more questions. Prepare my plea and let me go to live out my sentence. I want you to do nothing further on my behalf unless I instruct you to proceed. Is that understood?'

'Yes Sir. It is.'

Jacob rose from the flat bunk bed where he had been seated trying to make notes as he went along. He pushed his papers into the briefcase. The list of questions had not one check mark or note beside it indicating either a response or clearer picture of the events of the previous night. The AG's passionless confession to a shocking crime stunned him. Jacob received very clear instructions from a man who knew the law better than he did. The whole idea of pleading guilty felt wrong and yet DelCassian was insistent.

'Bail sir?'

'No. I'll stay here. Try to get me before a judge as quickly as possible.' The voice was flat and unemotional as it had been during the entire interview.

Jacob nodded and turned toward the door. He called out to the guard. DelCassian had turned back to his contemplation of the light in the window. He flinched as the key was turned in the lock.

'When you tell your mother, make sure she knows that I love her.'

Jacob didn't respond. The comment was not appropriate. The AG had just murdered his wife. He couldn't be seriously thinking that his mother would support him or feel anything but disgust at his actions. Jacob felt his sympathy wane. His mother's relationship with DelCassian was an unknown. _Did their reunion have anything to do with the crime? Could his mother be the motive for Gabriella's death?_

Jacob left the Jail with a heavy heart and returned to his office. He could not imagine his mother being involved in this case, having to give evidence. His mind went back to his conversation with Durocher. He had said they would need to check the timing of the conversation between Catherine and DelCAssian. Jacob was certain that whenever Gabriella DelCassian died, his mother had been either happily dancing with his father or on her way home. There was no way she should have to give evidence.

On his return to the office there was a quick note saying Durocher had stepped out. Relieved at not having to immediately relate the confession from the AG, Jacob sat down and pulled out his cell phone. He had been tempted to call his mother. They didn't often watch TV at home but the radio was always on. Sue might have heard something. There was an email from Cathy. He smiled at her message and the cheerful happy face which accompanied words, sent for his eyes only. The moment gave him the courage to dial home.

It was nearly noon and everyone should be up.

* * *

Catherine and Vincent woke to bright sunshine. They both knew that the girls would be fine with Sue. It wasn't often they got to sleep in a little longer. Catherine did not want Sue to have the full responsibility for getting the girls up each day. If she was to be a good mother she could not delegate her responsibilities to someone else. Mothering was a full time job but Sue insisted on allowing her to catch up on sleep. After her debut back into the public eye the previous night, Catherine was sure to be exhausted.

They hadn't stayed out late. Of necessity, Catherine could not hold up her body beyond a reasonable hour. The few dances with Vincent were enough to make up for not sharing the entire evening. They returned home to the warmth of each other's arms, finally falling asleep with fingers linked in love.

Vincent and Catherine eventually left the haven of their bedroom and sat in the living room area, enjoying the girls company. They nibbled on the remains of a light brunch.

'Mumum too sleepy.'

'I was a sleepyhead this morning Cilla. I was dancing with Daddy last night.'

'Me dance?'

Cilla seemed very clingy. It was unlike her to be so needy. Catherine got up and showed the little girl how to do a twirl and curtsey.

'She woke up Cathy very early this morning Catherine,' Sue interjected with a semi stern look

'Was Cathy able to get back to sleep?'

'I think she got to snooze a little bit more but she and Jacob were both gone soon after.'

'Out?'

'Yes, Jacob left very early and Cathy a little later. I think she went below. I don't know where Jacob went.'

'Vincent?'

'I didn't hear them Catherine.'

She frowned. Catherine didn't control the movements and whereabouts of her son and his wife but their early morning departure, separately, sent a warning flag. She had been sure that Cathy would want to talk about the Ball. Catherine had been looking forward to sharing their individual observations.

'Is something wrong my Love?'

'There isn't any reason to think so, but still I feel uncomfortable.'

Catherine returned to Cilla who was tugging at her leg for more attention. Mea was deeply involved in some interesting toy.

It was less than an hour later when the phone rang and Jacob's voice came over the line. Catherine knew immediately that a change occurred. Her son's voice was tentative, uncertain.

'I was very surprised to hear that you left early this morning.'

'Big case Mama.'

'Nothing wrong with getting your feet wet right away. I mean you have been doing the work already but …..' Catherine faltered. She fell silent. She could hear her son's breath rise and fall. 'You have bad news. Just tell me what it is.'

'Patrick DelCassian he's……'

'Don't tell me he's dead Jacob. Please don't tell me that.' Vincent heard the change in his wife's voice and came to stand beside her, his arm around her shoulder.

'No Mama. He's very much alive but his wife isn't. He says he killed her last night.'

'No…no…he didn't Jacob. No!'

Catherine dropped the phone to the floor and turned to bury her face in Vincent's shoulder. Cilla retrieved the phone and placed it at her ear, just as she had seen the adults do.

'Hello….Jake…hello Jake…'

Whatever was bothering the little girl seemed to abate as she listened to the voice of her older brother, talking softly. The short attention span was soon exhausted and she handed the phone to Vincent.

'Son your mother is distraught. What is the problem?'

'An old friend of hers has been charged with murder.'

'Did you need to call her Jacob. Could this have waited until later?'

'No Dad. It will be a lead item on the news and I didn't want her to find out like that or have someone else call her.'

Catherine grabbed the phone from Vincent. 'Make arrangements for me to see him tomorrow Jacob. There's been a terrible mistake!'

* * *

Cathy retraced her steps to the Sanctuary. She had enjoyed her visit with Jacob Senior. He had blossomed again after years of coping with severe back pain. She knew Jacob had something to do with the change. It didn't matter what type of healing he received as long as it worked. Father was vibrant and engaged. He had wanted to hear all about the Ball. He didn't seem surprised to know that Vincent had also gone. Cathy felt light and happy. Se recalled Father's interest in anything to do with his son and grandson. She felt the visit had been worth the time and effort. Picking up her pace a little, she glanced at her watch. She didn't want to be late meeting Merindia.

At the Sanctuary stairway, she made her way down slowly. It had been awhile since she last saw Merindia. There was no rancour between them despite the circumstances in which they met. She had run away, when her father Kardin tried to force her to marry a totally unsuitable man. His sole motive had been to maintain a criminal dynasty. He persisted despite his daughter's protests. Once again, and at great risk to himself, Jacob had been responsible for effecting a change. Instead of being the wife of a crime boss, Merindia was now actively working to help the women move from life below to safer circumstances above. Many of the most recent assets to the chambers below came from her work above.

The dark haired beauty was talking with Erin. Cathy stopped and waited, not to eavesdrop but to allow the two women to complete their conversation.

'Hi Cathy!' she said turning at last.

'I got your note. I can't tell you how much your work is making a difference here.'

The two young women hugged each other.

'I'd like to go above to talk if you don't mind. Do you have time for a late lunch?'

'Yes sure. Jacob is tied up.'

They chose a small restaurant close by the Sanctuary entrance. It was the end of the Sunday brunch period but a light salad and iced tea was enough to close the hunger gap. Small talk filled in the spaces between the mouthfuls. It was clear that Merindia had something important on her mind.

'Are you having trouble telling me what you really wanted to see me about?'

'No I am genuinely interested in the Ball last night and how things went.'

'It was a true Cinderella story. I couldn't have felt more special.'

'Any pumpkins?'

They shared a laugh. Merindia's face and body took on a different tone and posture.

'Can I ask you something Cathy?' At the nod she continued. 'Can I ask you why you don't like Brian?'

Cathy was not shocked at the question. She was more surprised at the underlying sense of protectiveness beneath the words. She frowned in initial response.

'I'm sorry Cathy. I just feel like a go between. You both do such good work for the community. I wondered why you don't talk.'

'Cathy pushed away her plate and looked Merindia in the eye. What she saw there puzzled her.

'Are you asking me for yourself or for him.'

'Myself"

'If you get along with him, that's all you need to think about. My relationship with Brian is minimal at best. We don't see each other and we don't talk. Before you, Jacob was my liaison, if I needed anything from him.'

'And Mr. Raeburn.'

'Same.'

The terse response did not deter Merindia.

'For the same reasons?'

'No. Look, Merindia, it is pointless trying to mend something irreversible. If that is your goal then forget it. I'm not interested in a reunion.'

'Cathy I am asking because I want to …..'

At the same moment that Merindia blurted out her reasons, the cell phone in Cathy's purse went off. She turned away in an effort not to miss the call which she knew was from Jacob. She appeared not to hear Merindia's words.

'Jacob is everything alright?'

She looked apologetically at her lunch companion.

'No, no problem, I can go now. Is she alright?'

Cathy nodded and ended the call. She looked at Merindia. 'I'm sorry. What did you say?'

'Another time Cathy. It sounds like you have some problems at home.'

'I do. Catherine has had some bad news. Jacob wants me to be at home in case of anything.'

'I'll get the cheque. Don't worry. You go. We can meet another time.'

Cathy leaned forward and offered a quick hug before heading to the exit. Much later, on the subway train, when she was reviewing the conversation what Merindia had said, finally registered.

'…_have a relationship with Brian.'_

_Merindia, not him. Of all people, not him for heaven's sake_ she thought.


	7. Chapter 7

''Ronan…Patrick…I don't know what to say'.

'Say nothing Catherine. Just hold me.'

Against all rules, Catherine had been allowed to visit with her childhood friend. She managed to pass herself off as a Lawyer, assistant to the young man who would be handling the case. It was the only way. Touching was also forbidden but the guard had walked away, unable to bear the sight of the former attorney general incarcerated for murdering his wife. Few people, who knew of him, believe d the charges to be true and yet he had confessed. Among those most shocked by the allegation was Catherine.

She felt his warm breath on her forehead as he kissed her softly. Every fiber of her being could sense and feel his reluctance to release her.

'This is madness Catherine. I shouldn't be holding you like this.'

He pushed her away from him and lent a hand as she sat on the same bunk bed occupied by her son days ago. 'Are you going to tell me what happened?'

'No. I don't think so. They may want me to go to trial. I won't but the less you know the better.'

'I won't lie to protect you but I don't think I need to lie, do I Patrick?'

'Lies and truth are all subjective. Most of the time the truth can hardly stand up to public scrutiny.'

He turned to face the window again. Hiding his deep emotional self, Catherine was surprised at how much she could sense from him none the less. Her feelings provided more confirmation of his innate goodness. She tried a different approach.

'Was Gabriella already dead when you spoke to me at the Ball?'

He cocked his head to one side and shrugged before replying. 'Probably not.'

'So why are you taking responsibility for her death. You didn't do it.'

'How do you know?' DelCassian turned back to face his friend. He stood, legs slightly apart. His stance was challenging.

'I know you. I refuse to believe that the boy I knew, the man you became, could change or do something so out of character. You may not want to tell others the truth but you will have to tell me.'

There was a long silence between them. He sat down on the opposite bunk facing her. 'Catherine our love, our pact was made as children. You can't hold me to it.'

'Patrick ….'

'Are you happy Catherine?' He too changed the subject. His search of her face revealed the depth of her own truth. The response slipped easily off her tongue. A clear and shining light in her eyes was unmistakable.

'As much as is possible. My husband loves me. I love him. Our son and daughter in law are doing well. The little girls we have adopted are thriving. I am happy.'

Taking her left hand again he looked at the fingers before turning it over. Like a palm reader he scanned the soft skin searching intently for the scar from the knife cut which proclaimed them blood brother and sister. They both smiled recalling the little ritual, taken seriously by two lonely children.

'I remember that day. We were so young. You saved my life Catherine. Every day that you were there for me, you saved me.'

'We saved each other. Was it all in vain? Is this the outcome of our hopes Patrick?'

He drew in a ragged breath. 'Remember Catherine, I have already cheated death. Perhaps now is my time. Do you remember us and what we wished for ourselves?'

* * *

_Patrick Ronan DelCassian lll was born into affluence and privilege. His father had been sole the heir of wealthy Irish landowners and horse breeders who brought their skills to America before the turn of the century. The DelCassian clan were descendants of the heroic, Medieval Irish King, Brian Boru. Patrick Senior was an educated lawyer but spent most of his time pursuing the finer things in life. His passions were women, horses and polo. Young Ronan, as he was known from birth, remained an only child. Whether it was because his father had no wish for more, or his mother refused to engage in an intimate relationship with her playboy husband, the young boy grew up alone. He had few friends. Catherine Chandler had been a near neighbor. Her father and mother often shared some of the DelCassian lifestyle events. They exchanged visits between the homes frequently enough that the young children, merely months apart became good friends._

_While the Patrick Senior was away, playing polo in South America or Europe, Rosemary DelCassian, a devout Catholic, raised their only son with the same abiding principles which guided her life. She attended mass nearly every day. She worked on projects in her community helping the poor and contributing time and effort to many causes. Her young son was almost always at her side, if he was not in school. Ronan never balked at being his mother's companion. He loved the church. His hero was the local priest who never seemed to be too tired to share a good word or two with the young boy._

_Catherine Chandler did not follow the same strict religious teachings but she was a perfect friend. When her mother died she had been distraught. Ronan was able to find many words of comfort for her. Not long after her mother's untimely death, Ronan and his mother had been involved in a car accident. Rosemary lingered for months on the brink of life and death, finally succumbing to the massive injuries. Ronan spent weeks in hospital with a lonely Catherine as his major companion. She alone had the courage to push and prod him to walk. His back had been broken. It was weeks after surgery before he would even consider standing, much less walking. At her insistence, he tried. They cemented their friendship during this period. Catherine informed Ronan that he had to live. They only had each other._

_A year after the accident and no longer tied down by a wife, Patrick DelCassian seemed to lose himself in degenerate behavior. He got involved with a group of men whose lifestyle matched his own. In Brazil, a couple of years later, he nearly lost his own life through overindulgence. Ronan, by then a teenager, ran away from home unable to withstand the excesses of his father. He hid out in the basement of his childhood friend for days. Eventually Patrick came to his senses and realized that his son needed him. Their relationship had already been deeply strained. From the time of his father's first adulterous affair, when Rosemary had been publicly shamed, young Ronan avoided his male parent as much as possible. _

_As he struggled to find, then bring back his runaway son, Patrick Senior realized that there was no turning back the clock. He could not undo his past behavior. Ronan made the effort to hold true to his mother's Christian teachings by trying to be the perfect son but a loving heart was impossible. He opted to be a model son by sublimating his own wishes to that of his remaining parent. In this, he was successful. The faltering law practice which Patrick had allowed to slide almost into oblivion was offered as bait if Ronan would give up the idea of a career in the church for law school. In an effort to please his father, and because his childhood friend Catherine, was also going to law school Ronan acquiesced. _

_Together, the young adults, Catherine and Ronan remained constant companions, competitive in school, sharing everything until the day Catherine fell in love with someone else. It wasn't the love which separated them; it was the character of the man. Ronan and Catherine were like brother and sister. There was never any hope of a relationship beyond great friendship. Ronan just did not approve of Stephen Bass for his best friend. The more he tried to dissuade her from getting involved with him, the more they fought. Catherine made the final choice between the two men._

* * *

They were both deeply thoughtful as memories washed over them.

'What are you thinking about Catherine?'

'The two men who I have loved the most warned me about Stephen and I refused to listen. It cost me your friendship back then and nearly cost me my life a few years ago.'

'Did he try to harm you? My God Catherine, was he even worse than I thought?'

'Even now I still shudder at the thought of who he became. Don't know why I couldn't see it.'

'So your husband Vincent, knew him too?'

'No, he had prophetic dreams about him and warned me, but Stephen manipulated my feelings and I allowed myself to get caught up with him again. I never learned.' She took his hand in a silent apology for her foolishness. 'What were you thinking about Patrick?'

'The time you lied so fervently for me. I was hiding in the basement of your home and your father and mine pressed you relentlessly to tell them where I was and you refused. I had never heard you tell a lie before.'

'I thought I was protecting you. I know you did not want to go home.'

'It wasn't a lie. It was a judgment of the heart.'

'Judgment of the heart?'

'Yes a means to an end or the end justifies the means. I don't want you to lie for me now Catherine. If they ask you tell the truth of what you know, please do.'

Tears filled Catherine's eyes. She wanted to protect him just as she had done years ago but the circumstances were so different. Patrick stood again, turning back to the window before speaking over his shoulder.

'Cathy, do you know the story of the Egyptian Goddess Maat?'

'Yes. At your death she will weigh your heart against a feather. If it balances, there is no judgment against you. You will go to the good after life.'

'I am just trying to lighten the burden of my heart. Forgive me for that.'

Patrick pushed her away then and called out to the guard. Realizing that she would get no more from him, she touched his back, ramrod straight as always since the surgery. What appeared to some as sign of aloofness was, in fact, a painful reminder of the loss of his mother.

* * *

Jacob finally received permission to access the home of his client. He opened the door slowly but stood for a long time in the corridor, staring at the remnants of the police tape which prevented access to the crime scene. He gathered information, noting little things here and there.

It was obvious that no one had entered the condominium without a passkey. The door was unblemished. Jacob ran his finger around the key hole. _'Who enters here?'_ he murmured. The cop standing nearby moved forward as if to answer the question but stepped back when Jacob did not turn around.

The entrance hall was stark. The home looked more like a rental property. Minimal furniture hardly gave a clue as to the occupants. The floor was highly polished, reflecting the early morning sun. He walked to a window. Sheer curtains hung perfectly from the cathedral ceiling. Not a breath of air stirred the folds. To the left, a small corner chair and table were uninviting. Only a bouquet of artificial violets, set in a crystal bowl, relieved the starkness.

The loft style condo was all metal and glass. It seemed ultra modern for a man who appeared as aesthete as the AG and totally out of character for the lush sensuality exuded by Gabriella DelCassian. Jacob turned from his contemplation of the view and retraced his steps. To the right of the entrance was the dining and kitchen area. He peeked into a couple of hall closets. Winter coats, ready to be stored away were bundled together at one side. There were no indications that the woman of the house used it. The clothes were all masculine. The kitchen and dining room were completely fashioned and furnished in smokey glass and metal. Everything was immaculate.

The refrigerator was full of food. At some time in recent days, someone had been doing a fair amount of cooking. Jacob looked at the shelves. Nothing seemed untoward. On the bottom shelf, he noted several bottles of salad dressing. One without a brand label held his curiosity. He lifted it out of the pocket shelf and opened the top. The odour immediately identified it as some herbal concoction. He took a small plastic bag from his pocket and poured out a tiny measure of the liquid. There was a familiar scent to it. The label was written in Portuguese. Within seconds he memorized and translated the directions. A list of contents was absent.

The AG's dress jacket hugged the back of one of the dining room chairs. It seems he had come home and removed it immediately. _Did he sit at the table or just remove the jacket_? Jacob peered closely at the table top for fresh finger prints. Obviously the police did not see it as a factor in the crime. Beyond the kitchen was a short hallway. A door on the left opened into an area that was clearly a work space. The walls were decorated in an oak wood- grain pattern contrasting quite significantly with the foyer and kitchen. Like everything else it was neat. A small bookcase, Jacob's height, containing legal reference texts filled the shelves. A computer screen stood idle on the desk, disconnected from the key board and the computer box which gave it life. Jacob knew it was still in police custody.

As he glanced around, Jacob noticed that the room had a large open space. He went to the wall with a sense of déjà vu. Hardly visible was a line on the surface stretching from ceiling to floor. Much as he had done in the basement of his home, Jacob tapped around the space. It wasn't hollow but the area behind the wall did not produce the same sound. He looked to any markers or signs of an opening. Between the baseboard of the wall, he noticed a small gap. Pushing against the base of the wall just above the edging, he felt a release and moved aside quickly as a portion of the wall came down slowly. It was not a secret panel, merely a wall bed. There were sheets on it and a single pillow. Jacob pressed on the mattress. It felt like a rock. He wondered if anyone could sleep on something so uncomfortable. He returned the bed to its upright resting place.

Moving quickly, Jacob went back to the front door and looked cautiously up the stairs. He tried to picture Gabriella, walking up and down, negotiating each step in her spike heels. He felt almost fearful of the energy waiting, poised to be released into his psyche, the moment he invaded her territory. Taking a deep breath, Jacob bounded up to the top. The minute he stood outside her bedroom door, he felt a choking feeling, a strangling sensation, unlike anything he had ever experienced.

Jacob shut his mind and eyes to the internal sensations. He wanted to focus on the clues available to his external senses. _What I see is what I must record for a defense. No judge would listen to perceived information_. Jacob knew he must use facts. Controlling the assault on his senses he opened the door, not at all surprised by the pervading starkness.

Gabriella's bed remained unmade. One side was untouched. Patrick had not yet gotten into to bed with her. _Were they arguing? _The bed was king-sized with rather ordinary sheets and fittings. The general colour was a pale mauve. The bed frame was brass railing. He moved closer to the head of the bed and looked at the railing itself and the wall behind. The nine dresser drawer held the usual assortment of feminine clothes, more serviceable than enticing. Everything was neatly folded. On top was an assortment of perfume bottles, all earthy scents befitting her sensuality. To the right side was a photo of a woman and a young man. There was a resemblance to both. Jacob assumed it was her mother and brother. The photo was ageless but he had a sense it was years old.

He moved to the double closet doors. On one side were four neatly hung suits in four different colours. Beside them were an equal number of shirts and matching ties. It was as if none of them had ever been used. On the other side were a few over the top dresses very similar to the white sheath she had worn at the Ball. That particular dress was not among the clothes.

There was some shaving gear in the bathroom but the majority of knick-knacks were feminine. Jacob shook his head. Visions wanted to intrude on his quietness. He set them aside. After his perusal of the bathroom, Jacob returned to the bed room and stood at the foot of the bed. Only one shiny spot on the wall above the bed seemed out of place. He looked up and down and sideways, before exiting the room. He did not turn around. Her spirit hovered nearby. Jacob did not want to be drawn into its embrace.


	8. Chapter 8

'Come my love.'

Vincent waved to Carl from the front door of the Brownstone, giving the cheerful driver permission to leave. He drew his tired wife into warm and loving arms.

'How is it that you are always here when I need you most?'

'I've learned to be more quietly vigilant since I feel I failed you when you needed me most.'

'Oh Vincent! Look how happy we are now. I don't want to look back, only forward. I feel we have been so blessed.'

Catherine felt herself propelled purposefully down the hall towards their bedroom. 'Where are the girls?' she asked, concern making her resist.

'Sue has them out in the park. I felt you would need to rest. Do you want to lie down?'

'I think I would like to sit in our chair and just cuddle.'

Vincent grunted his assent. He assisted her into more comfortable clothes. Sitting down he drew his wife onto his lap, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder. He held her close, waiting to sense her even breathing before making any overtures.

'Tell me about your friend.'

'He is sad Vincent and so defeated but remains proud and defiant. There are some deep painful secrets in his life. He doesn't want to share them but I feel his hurt.'

Catherine went on to tell Vincent about the adored childhood playmate whose friendship meant the world to her growing up. He listened, not interrupting. Occasionally, he would interject a nod or soothing words when emotion threatened to overwhelm her.

His arms tightened around her at the mention of Stephen Bass.

'I was so angry with him at the time Vincent, just as I was with you. I can't believe I was so foolish.'

'I think your kind heart was misguided Catherine. You have never been foolish.'

'You are too much of an interested spectator in my life to be non judgmental,' she whispered in a teasing voice.

'Is there anything you can do for Patrick?' he asked gently, knowing her character would strive to fix things.

'Nothing! I may be called as a witness for either depending on which side my testimony will help the most. I expect that Jacob is going to have a hard time if he continues to pursue a viable defense in this case. Patrick has confessed and does not want a trial although the prosecutor may push for one.'

Vincent knew Catherine wasn't afraid. She believed in the strength of the truth. He held her closer and continued to listen as she recounted stories from their youthful adventures.

Soon she was quiet. Her heart beat slowed, breathing evened out and he knew she slept. Sue had been instructed to keep the girls quiet for the afternoon. Vincent was content with that decision. His wife was worn out by the emotion of the visit. Her ability to rebound from challenging situations was less certain in view of the past year fighting for the girls. He didn't want to stifle her natural exuberance but he felt there were times when a little more control of her environment was warranted.

Before long, he too, succumbed to the gentleness of the afternoon. Unlike Catherine, whose main thoughts were for her friend, his mind drifted back to the reunion journey from California. During the three day trip they had often cuddled in the big easy chair in the bedroom of the large motor home. Then, Catherine had not found her legs and much of her memory had been lost. The two years brought such healing to her soul. Now she was thriving. He had no wish to see her revert to a time of weakness. Whatever the outcome of the investigation, he vowed protect her.

* * *

'Carl, are you sure about this? The machine looks like an antique. Might be worth a lot.'

'Cathy, trust me. The young people around now think it's more fun to shop than make their own stuff. They don't want to do anything for themselves. The Aunt, who used this machine, has long since passed on. It's just taking up space in my cousin's basement.'

'I'm sure Erin will love it.'

Cathy hardly had time to announce that the Sanctuary needed a sewing machine before Carl, with his large Puerto Rican family, came up with his Aunt Ida's _treasure_. She had been one of Carl's original family members to come from the homeland. Ida had done a great deal of sewing for everyone and her treasured machine lay dusty and unused since her death. Amalea, her granddaughter, had three growing boys and no need of a machine. She gave it to Carl with her blessing.

'Do you need help to take it down?'

'Yes, I think so. It's pretty heavy. Phister can help.'

Cathy sent a message down via the pipes that Phister was needed at a prearranged place above. She and Carl sat in the van waiting, out of sight, in a back alleyway.

It didn't take long for the machine to be safely installed below. Erin's eyes lit up at the sight of it. Included in the gift from Carl's family was a box of threads, bits of material and other paraphernalia sure to be loved by any seamstress.

'My legs will get a work out with this machine' she said eyeing the foot propeller before running her hand lovingly over the black metal. She gazed at the faded gold Singer label her finger outlining the letters. Her mouth moved as if she was saying a prayer.

Cathy noticed that Erin always touched things in a particular loving way, tracing any unusual patterns or objects. It was more like a blind person's way of sensing something. There was a loving feel to the movements.

Cathy's face lit up, grateful that a small effort could bring such delight to Erin. That rare smile reappeared as Erin turned to offer her thanks to Carl. Neither Rob nor Carl had came down to the sanctuary, respecting its space as a place for women. Carl had been very surprised by the set up. He had not needed to come down but urged on by Cathy, he supervised the descent as Phister lumbered down the stone steps, the machine held up in his arms.

Carl knew a lot about women and respected the work that Cathy was doing. His own large family included many females. He promised to go around and gather any clothes that weren't being used.

On days like this Cathy felt good about the underground work she was doing. It wasn't just offering support and a place of safety to the women. Being able to enlist the willing help of people above made the efforts below a community action and not just one woman wanting to make things better.

Cathy left with Carl. She had been below earlier in the morning. She knew that Catherine would be going to visit her friend Patrick. It was sure to be a trying time and like the previous days, she wanted to be available if needed.

Jacob had turned into an amateur sleuth at his mother's plea to help the incarcerated AG. He returned home the previous night all fired up about getting in to view the condo. He hoped to pick up some clue as to why Gabriella DelCassian was murdered. His mind was preoccupied with the details and outcome of all investigations. He was distracted from his usual thoughtful ways. Cathy felt a need to fill in any gaps for Catherine or the girls.

* * *

On the short drive, she thought about the alleged perpetrator, who was in jail and had confessed. At first, Cathy couldn't understand why there was any need to prove or disprove the already known outcome. She was sure that the public would be interested in the sleazy details just to titivate the senses. His early confession would not put an end to any speculation, so looking for motives and clues would only prolong the inevitable.

In the real world, that was the normal outcome of most cases, but she sensed from Jacob's behaviour there was some missed detail about the murder. She supported Jacob's effort to get at any deeper truth. She felt sorry for the man if he was truly innocent. No motive was acceptable for killing another human being but if he was protecting or covering for someone else, it was a foolish move.

'You sound like you got something on your mind Cathy. Are you worried about anything? Is there something you need me to do?'

'No Carl. I am just mulling over the past few days in my head. Did you know my mother in law was good friends with the AG at one time?'

'Yeah, I brought her home from the jail earlier today. She looked real tired after the visit. Said she couldn't believe that he could be a killer.' Carl was very observant and descreet. 'Maybe he had a reason to kill he or maybe it was an accident' he offered, puzzled by the incomprehensible actions of a man of law.

'I don't think there is ever a good reason to kill anyone, except in self defense.' Cathy murmured echoing her previous thoughts. 'I could buy the idea of an accidental death though.'

'Did you meet her? What was she like?'

Cathy was quiet before she responded to Carl's questions trying to frame the right answer in her head.

'Mrs. DelCassian was at the ball. I met her briefly and found her curious. She was quite tall and very provocative.'

'Do you think he did it in a jealous rage?'

'As strange as it may seem, I don't think he did it at all.'

'Why Cathy?'

'Cuz my husband says he didn't do it and I believe him even if the evidence and a full confession say otherwise.'

Carl chuckled. 'Absolute faith. The ultimate proof of true love,' he said nodding sagely.

* * *

Listen Kid, you are out of your league on this one. This is not a case for a PD and certainly not for a junior. Your guy needs a criminal lawyer.'

'I didn't ask for an opinion on my skills, with respect sir. I know my limitations as well as my infinite possibilities.'

''It amazes me, huh Billy, how these young defenders seem to think they have all the answers. Having friends in high places isn't always an advantage.'

'I am not trying to gain an advantage. I want to get at the truth for the sake of my client.'

'What do you want kid? He confessed already! There's no truer truth than a confession.'

Jacob didn't reply to such an inane comment. 'I didn't ask to come here. You sent for me remember?'

The skinny, intense, middle aged man with a bad comb over, who eyed Jacob's abundant locks enviously, faced off against his young opponent. The colleague, Billy, kept silent. Seemingly, his only role was just a foil for the Assistant District Attorney. As Jacob's eyes darted between the two men, He got the feeling that the State's case was not quite as clear cut as it seemed. He kept quiet forcing his opponent to speak.

'I have checked into the facts of this case. If DelCassian changes his plea your mother is his alibi. That creates a conflict of interest for you.'

'My client, at this point, only wants to appear before a judge. If he needed an alibi, several other people saw him at the Ball with and without his wife.'

'I want him to go to trial. Let the public decide the facts of the case. They have a right to know what went on with the man chosen to defend the morality of this state and why he broke faith with that pledge.'

'No. They have a right to know that he is going to be punished for a crime. Nothing more. The media circus which surrounds these trials serves no one.'

'Look buddy, this case goes to trial, _no ifs, ands or buts_. If you want to protect your mother, keep her out of it. But…. if she is any part of the motive or alibi she will be right up there with him.'

'Thanks for your time.'

Jacob got up and left. He had little more to say. These meetings with counsel were always acrimonious in high profile cases. Of course the prosecution wanted a public trial and the assistant district attorney was goading him. They always felt good about making an example of fallen men. Jacob would work to protect the rights of his client but first he would need to speak with his mother. He hoped she would remember enough of the law to know that she was treading on dangerous ground as a confidante of a man charged with a serious crime. As yet, Jacob did not understand the nature of their relationship. He hated to probe into something that seemed intimate at one time.

Jacob was curious about their current status. He had no doubt of his mother's love for his father. His lack of experience, observing his mother with Mitchell Spelnik, taught him a lot about the unshakeable and steadfast love of his parents. His mother seemed to be the type of woman who men valued, respected and cared for all at the same time. He rarely thought about his mother as a woman and yet he could learn much from the way she interacted with her peers. In the immediate moment, he wanted to know what Patrick DelCassian represented in his mother's life.

It was getting into early evening before Jacob finally finished transcribing some notes from his visit to the DelCassian condo and the prosecutor's office. Just as he was about to leave, the coroner's office sent a message that the autopsy had been completed. Jacob tried to decide whether to go to the morgue or go home. He did not want any immediate contact with Gabriella's body. He did think a lot about confirming the cause of death. DelCassian said he strangled her. It all seemed clear cut. The AG should know what he had done.

Despite the time, Jacob found his feet moving towards the city morgue.

'DelCassian is not here Sir.'

'Are you sure Pedro?'

'Yes Sir. I'm sure. Her relative Uncle sent for her body as soon as it was released by Coroner.' Pedro's hands gestures were comical. 'She's gonna be cremated in Brazil.'

'What!?'

Jacob looked directly at Pedro. The young Puerto Rican attendant remained respectful to Jacob. At their first encounter, Pedro suspected Jacob of being a bit weird for wanting to touch the bodies of recent victims. Jacob had silenced him with an intense look. Pedro was not to know that Jacob could intuit energy from the aura of a body, even one dead a few days. It was the first time Jacob had experienced the phenomenon within himself and his ability to direct energy to another person. He would always remember that moment. Pedro remained respectful of Jacob's presence at all visits.

'Sorry Mr. Jacob but I didn't know it was you wanted to see the body.'

'It's OK. I'll just get the report from the coroner.'

'OK Sir, sorry Sir.'

Jacob climbed the stairs to the Coroner's office, presented his ID and received a copy of the report. He made the short walk back to his office before opening the envelope. He glanced at the hastily prepared report. The contents shocked him.


	9. Chapter 9

'Mama there must be something else?'

'I'm sorry Jacob. I've told you everything I know.'

'I hate to keep on asking you things. I just want to get a reason for his actions, if he really did it. Without understanding his motive either for killing her or lying about killing her, I feel my hands are tied, especially when I talk with the DA.'

'I would love to understand it myself Jacob. He is still the man I knew. My memory of him is clearer in some ways because it has not been tempered by 20 years of other activities in my life but his actions are not in keeping with his character. Committing a murder, telling a lie….these are strange words to use when talking about Patrick.'

Silence fell between mother and son. Jacob was frustrated by his inability to get any information from his client, from the dead woman or the few guests who were witness to the events of the night of the ball. Jacob interviewed one couple from the group who sat at the table with the AG and his wife. Both people claimed that she ate a little, seemed distracted or angry, interacted minimally with her husband and left early.

Patrick DelCassian had said at the outset that he would not answer any questions but Jacob knew it was imperative that he develop some kind of time line or alibi. It wasn't enough to acknowledge that he committed a crime. Innocent, misguided fame-seekers often admitted to crimes merely for the publicity. DelCAssian actions were less clear but his behavior was indeed odd.

The DA seemed bent on taking the case to trial against the wishes of DelCassian. Despite being rude and condescending, it was clear during the meeting that in his capacity as chief prosecutor, the DA also had some doubts about the obviously contrived confession from the state's chief attorney.

Jacob returned his heightened senses to the present. He stared hard at his mother, willing her to come up with something, anything to work with. She met his stare unflinchingly.

'Mama you talked about his car accident. It was sometime ago. What type of injuries did he have?' Jacob thought about the hideaway bed. It must have been created for someone in particular.

'He was told that he had a broken back and pelvis. There were some fractured vertebrae and two fractures of his pelvis, if I remember correctly.'

'Did he need surgery?'

'Yes, they placed a rod in his back. He didn't walk for months. The doctor thought he would be a paraplegic. I always felt he could walk again.' Catherine stopped, her eyes welling with tears.

Another long and pregnant silence fell between mother and son. Upstairs, Jacob knew that his wife was waiting for him. He longed to wrap his arms around her. They seemed to have spent days passing each other on the stairs, through the rooms with little time for conversation. He felt strange acknowledging how much he missed her lively company. They were still living and sleeping together but seemed to have too little '_awake time'_ to share. He allowed his mind to wander a bit, at a loss for other questions to ask his mother. Cathy lingered in his mind and from the depths of his thoughts, he formed an impossible question.

'Mama….did you…..love him?'

Catherine hesitated before answering. 'Do you mean…. intimately?'

Embarrassed, Jacob hung his head, nodding an affirmative response. Whether she was to be a witness or not, Catherine was still his mother. When she didn't answer, he looked up and said the words. 'Yes Mama. I'm sorry for asking but I need to know.'

Catherine reached over and touched the hand of her son. 'No, I was not intimate with him. He never made a move to initiate anything with me other than deep brotherly affection. I told you that he wanted to be a priest. No one was as surprised as me to learn that he was married and that he married someone so…. ….so…..' Catherine failed to find a word which would convey her thoughts about Gabriella DelCassian.

'What do you mean?'

'He had such an air of peace and grace about him as if God shone a light on his head drawing him inward for a special calling. His mother's death cemented his desire to give service to God but he changed at some point in his late teens.'

'How do you know?'

'We never talked about him going to law school until one day, out of the blue, when he came to me and said he was going wherever I was. He meant it too. I think it may have had to do with his father. Their very long feud seemed to come to an end. Patrick resigned himself to understanding the wretched man who gave him life. He vowed, instead of serving his church, to making something of the law practice which seemed about to self destruct, much as his father had done.'

'Seems very complicated.'

'It was. Patrick did not want to work in private practice but he put his heart and soul into it. At the time, Patrick senior had some problems with clients, creditors and shady dealings which needed cleaning up. As soon as Ronan…Patrick graduated, he took over the office and got everything sorted out. We weren't as close then but I kept up with him through my father.'

Catherine leaned back in her chair. She was tired. Trying to remember details of events so far into her past left her weak and mildly disoriented. Jacob could hear footsteps coming down the hall. His father would know that Catherine had extended herself. Rather than endure a well deserved lecture on the responsibilities of being more considerate of his mother, Jacob stood up, leaned over and kissed her cheek.

'I'm done Mama. I don't want to stress you anymore.'

'I know that I will have to speak with the DA. I need to be prepared. Your questions are helping me to put things into perspective. Really, I am fine,' she added at his look of concern.

Jacob heard the door open behind him. He turned, raising a hand to forestall any questions or comments. 'I'm just leaving Dad. Mama has been very helpful but she's tired.'

Vincent grunted and looked back and forth between mother and son. His eyes narrowed but he let any comment pass.

'Good night Son.'

Good night Dad, Mama.'

* * *

Jacob bounded up the stairs two at a time. He found it hard to take his time doing anything since the day Oats called him into the office to deal with this case. His metabolism seemed to have speeded up significantly with the change in his job and the pressure from all sides. His meeting with the DA had been frustrating. He felt his client had a right to choose his method of trial. The DA insisted otherwise. There were many missing pieces of the puzzle. Something about the events of the night, when Gabriella died made no sense. A man of such esteemed character seemed the most unlikely person to commit murder. He was obviously covering up. He had given no motive or explanation of how or why he was driven to such extreme action.

His client was the biggest deterrent to the truth. Patrick remained as steadfast in his confession as in his reluctance to share any details which might mitigate the circumstances. Jacob did not believe he was culpable. Without a true statement of the events of the night his hands were tied. Gabriella's autopsy added a new wrinkle. He wondered if the AG was intent on protecting his wife. _But from what?_ Jacob vowed to make another attempt to press Patrick for a more comprehensive accounting of the events of the night.

* * *

Cathy smiled and held out her arms to her freshly showered husband. He looked tired. Rather than joining her in bed he stood for a long time looking out the window. The moon's light shaded his face. She turned out the bedside lamp, sensing a need for the intimacy of darkness.

'Jacob?'

'Cathy, I have wanted to come to bed with a light heart, and kiss you silly. Now that were are together and awake after days of passing each other here and there, I feel afraid.'

'Of what Jacob?' she asked gently, seeing a new side to her husband. He seemed vulnerable in a way she had never noted before.

'I am suddenly aware of my limitations, even while I thought I knew my strengths. I have to use everything available to me to work this case. Everything except those special skills which would serve me and my client….skills which would have no value in a court of law.'

Cathy uncovered herself and got up out of bed. She was naked and warm. She wrapped her arms around her husband from behind, holding him tightly. The rise and fall of his chest was steady. Her hand rested against his rib cage. She could feel the rhythmic, reassuring heartbeat.

She extended the warmth and energy from her body allowing it to radiate into his. Her head rested against his back. The long hair caressed his skin. They stood for a long while, just absorbing the quiet of their own thoughts. She stood on tiptoe, resting her chin on his shoulder and planted a soft kiss at his ear. Jacob rubbed his cheek against her like a contented cat.

'We seem to be missing each other a lot these days.'

'How is it possible to miss you so much when we are sleeping and living together?'

'Missing each other even when we are together says a lot about the need to talk as part of expressing our love.'

'Do you want to talk now?'

'I think, I want to stay like this forever, feeling you close to me, melding our energy together, becoming one. It feels as if this is where I should always be.'

'Are you happy?'

'Incredibly so!'

Jacob disentangled Cathy's hands from him and spun her around so that she now stood in front of him. He wrapped his arms about her, just as she had done. He felt her racing heart. The scent of her hair was intoxicating beneath his nostrils. His hands roamed the contours of her body from the end of his reach, over its flowing peaks and valleys, back up to her neck. He rubbed his chin along the lines of it wondering how a man who loved his wife could do anything other than caress its graceful beauty. A thought flashed through his mind. A seed was planted but he could not give it room to grow. Other more basic needs engaged his senses. Later he would give it life again. For the moment, his wife's haunting, seductive breaths, matching his own, commanded his immediate attention.

* * *

'Wells, are you listening?'

'Sir?'

'I don't want to sound like a broken record, but I need your full attention here, unless you want to share your thoughts.'

Jacob had no desire to give voice to the intimacy of his marriage. He had promised himself that the events of the previous night and morning would not intrude on his daytime hours but the intense lovemaking filled his body and soul. He and Cathy seemed to have found some common need and their expression of love had his senses reeling. He tried without success to prevent a flush rising. He hoped that Oats and Wesley would think him more embarrassed at being caught failing to pay attention.

'I am sorry Oats. I have a lot on my mind.'

'Yes…well maybe we don't want to know what's on your mind but we need you to be present.'

Jacob could see both men suppress a chuckle. He sat wide eyed facing them hoping the schoolboy blush would soon dissipate.

'Ok, so we have here a woman, who was apparently murdered by her husband. The autopsy report says that she had a few funny things going on but we are clear that she died of asphyxiation from inhaled stomach contents brought on by strangulation. Her thyroid bone was fractured as well as the cricoid cartilage from pressure. Seems that she died fairly soon after arriving home, if the time of her departure from the ball was certain. Guests said that she had eaten a little and stomach contents were partially digested.'

'What did you find strange in the report Wesley?'

'She had implants, work done on the face and neck. She wasn't that old but looks like she had a lot of sagging. The coroner didn't go too deeply into what she had fixed. The cause of death was pretty clear.'

'Was the work done here?'

'No. Seems that she used to go to Brazil every three months, spend a couple of weeks, come back looking new. They do a lot of this 'touch up' stuff there.'

'What do you think Wells?'

'I don't think she was strangled. The coroner didn't report any neck bruising. Something else happened. I understand she had a migraine. That might account for her vomiting and for the face work. Botox is good for headaches as well as the 'touch up' you mentioned.'

'Doesn't account for the fractures though. Do you know something else Wells?'

'Not sure. I thought I might take a quick trip to Brazil. Did you know the body is gone already?'

'No but the coroner releases the body as soon as cause of death is established. The family want it, they get it. By the way, no one takes a quick trip to Brazil. You will be gone at least a week. Can you justify it?'

'My hands are tied here. DelCassian doesn't want to talk. Something is puzzling me about this case. It's not clear cut and I can't get any answers from him.

'What's the DA saying?'

'He wants a trial. Thinks the public needs to know.'

'More like wanting to make a name for himself by bringing down his boss. Do what you need to do Jacob. If you go, I want results and facts that are meaningful to the case.'

Jacob returned to his office. He didn't know what made him offer to go to Brazil until he relived those moments the previous night when his hand rested on Cathy's neck and he wondered what could drive a man to kill his wife. There was a larger story, a back drop to the marriage of Patrick and Gabriella which was pertinent to the case. Some unknown event propelled the DA into a loveless and sexless union which ended with the death of his wife. Jacob was determined to get to the bottom of the story. Armed with some facts, he may be able to save DelCassian.


	10. Chapter 10

Jacob sat, in his office for a long time caught between reminiscing and analysis. The more pleasurable of the two held him for long periods. He surprised himself. Never before did he have to separate his work and his private life quite so consciously. It was during a period of remembrance that he heard the sound of a knock. As if to mock his daydreaming, a vision of lovliness appeared at the door. Her blond flowing hair bounced seductively around her face and shoulders. Jacob immediately thought of the Seirenes in ancient mythology.

'Hi, my name is Karen Murlock, assistant district attorney. 'She extended a pale red tipped hand. 'The DA asked me to follow up with you on the DelCassian case.'

Jacob's eyes narrowed. He extended his hand to guide the unexpected visitor to a chair on the opposite side of the desk. She sat and crossed her legs purposefully. Jacob could feel a negative energy drawing and pulling him into murky waters. He didn't like it.

'Stanley thought we might be able to share some ideas on how this case can be brought to a speedy conclusion.'

'I'm not sure why the DA thought it was necessary to do this. We just spoke not too long ago. I made my client's position very clear.'

'Of course. He just thought I might be able to help you speed up the process a little…smooth the way.'

She uncrossed and crossed her legs again. Jacob knew he was being set up. He leaned forward over his desk. His first inclination was to ask her to leave. He gazed at her, divining the real motives for her visit. His thoughts did not match the words or smile he bestowed on his uninvited guest..

'What did you have in mind? I am sure you had a plan of action when you came in here.'

She gracefully but in artfully looked at her watch. 'I thought we might discuss it over lunch.'

Jacob folded his hands in front of his mouth in an attitude of prayer. He felt flattered that someone so lovely looking had been sent to engage him in plea bargaining or whatever activities she had in mind. He kept a smile on his face and thanked his ancestors for giving him a discerning eye.

'We are still doing some investigating of our own. It's much too early for me to have enough facts to advise my client on a course of action. I appreciate your offer of help but I assure you, I can manage.'

'But I….'

'Thanks for dropping by.' Jacob stood and extended his hand. The messages from her body flooded his system. Almost as quickly he rejected what she had to offer, on all levels. He gave her hand a squeeze infusing it with the silent thought that she was better served by doing her work than being a legal prostitute for her pimping boss. Jacob found the concept to be totally distasteful.

Her perfume lingered in his office. It was nauseating. Oats had given the ok for him to act independently. Grabbing his Jacket he left. If he was to go to Brazil, he did indeed need a plan of action but one of his own making.

* * *

'How was your day Jacob?'

'You won't believe what that guy Benjamin did to me today. He sent over a Sierene to tempt me into doing something. I have no idea what.'

'That's an old trick they use with young defenders. He must have thought you were vulnerable. Did you spill any beans?'

Jacob glanced at his wife. Her half smile was a tease. She really did know him well.

'She thought we might discuss it over lunch.'

'Oh brazen!'

'She couldn't gain one moment's interest from me. I thought of playing her along for awhile but that kind of thing isn't me either.'

'No, it's not. Where are we going Jacob? Are we going to stop and eat or go home?'

'I need to go below. I want a bit of quiet time to plan what I'm going to do next. You can wait for me there or at home.'

'I'll go home Jacob. I have a huge assignment due next week. I get the feeling that both of us would get more done. I'll be waiting for you when you get home.'

'Ah, what a sweet promise!'

They parted company with a brief kiss and hug. Jacob continued on to the park and made his way through the tunnels to his old room. He withdrew some of Pater's notes checking information against what he gleaned from the sample taken from the refrigerator at the DelCassian home. He lit a small candle and read through the notes. When he had done, Jacob leaned back against a wall and opened his mind to the problems.

_Should I go to Brazil? How would it serve me and my client? _Jacob tried to picture himself there. His mind refused to open any images that made sense. Jacob slowed his breathing and tried again. A now familiar disembodied voice filled the chamber.

'_Jacob…when will you realize your potential. You can be anywhere you want to be and see the answers with little effort.'_

'_I am an attorney. I need facts in order to make a case. I promised not to use methods which don't provide me with concrete transferable information.'_

'_This is not such a case Jacob. You need history to make your case. Go there….. in your astral travels and see the history. Then you can add the already known facts.'_

'_Pater?'_

"…_..all that and more…..''_

Jacob closed his eyes. He did not put out the candle. He wondered if this was the place to leave his body and see what the past and present had to offer. There were numerous stories to be told. Jacob senses drew him back to the conversation with his mother. What he had gleaned from Catherine was the importance of Patrick Sr. to all the roads his young son followed. The father was the architect of the story. His behaviour dictated many of the events which led to the present. Of that, Jacob was certain. He quickly calculated a time frame for the events of the 50's and 60's and set his astral body to seek out the records bound tightly in the vibrating essence of the astral plane.

* * *

_DelCassian was a dissolute liar and rogue with too much money and charm and none of the sense of responsibility inherent in his genetic gifts. He wasted an opportunity to be a brilliant lawyer, leaving his own father's law practice to flounder under the care of incompetents. In the blue hills of Kentucky, another opportunity was wasted when he sold the family ranch where two generations of successful breeders had lived and worked. His love of horses took him only to the playgrounds of the world where he cavorted happily with anyone who set up a game of Polo. His riding ability made him a popular guest at equestrian events around the world for his skills were first class. _

_His late marriage to a mousy, religious zealot did nothing to change his lifestyle. Her dowry was substantial. He had no need to provide her with anything except an heir. Within the first year of their marriage, she had given him a son. Thereafter their relationship was perfunctory at best. In his quest for the ultimate perfection in gamesmanship, he found his paradise in Brazil. _

_The wealthy ranchers in the south west portion of the country bordering Argentina welcomed him. _

_Delcassian always had money flowing. Many were only too happy to relieve him of it. A cheaper lifestyle, in the beauty of South America allowed him to spend recklessly for years. He was also careless, allowing bills and debts to pile up before he settled them. Often he would go to Europe for long periods forgetting his responsibilities in South America, his promises to his wife and mostly to his child. On his return to any base he conveniently forgot to settle his bills, leaving family and friends to cover up for him. A few charming words would often appease his creditors when lagging accounts became an embarrassment. DelCassian had a way of drawing people to him with laughter, cajoling, and a huge show of generosity._

_Among his closest friends was Arturo deCordoba, a Brazilian/Italian rancher who bred horses of exquisite ability and beauty. Much as Arturo loved his American friend, he loved his horses more. Many times Patrick stayed at the ranch when he was between tournaments or just looking for a place to relax. The unspoken word was that hospitality was readily available, the horses were not. Both men were strong willed but where Arturo was shrewd and calculating, DelCassian was manipulative and devious. The two men understood each other well. DelCassian gave his Brazilian friend access to the lucrative US market. With consent, Patrick could choose a horse to ride, race or enjoy._

_How it was that the friendship soured after many years of easy comraderie had to do with the very thing which drew the men together. Arturo had imported a beautiful Arabian from Europe which he hoped to breed. The cost of the animal was upwards of a million dollars. Easily, with careful and selective breeding, Arturo knew he could recoup the outlay of money. DelCassian eyes widened appreciably on his first sight of the beauty. He was a connoisseur of many things. Horses were a passion. The horse, called Elcarob because of its chocolate colour, had graceful flowing lines. It was a king among kings on the ranch. It was also off limits to all riders._

_DelCassian had always respected the guidelines laid down by his friend. There were plenty of engaging easy riders on the ranch. His experience gave him an advantage over other visitors and often Arturo would ask an opinion. He did not request any such comment regarding the Arabian. Its bloodline spoke volumes. _

_After a night of drinking and laughter, DelCassian felt a fever rising in him to jump astride the horse. Arturo had long since passed out giving Patrick the opportunity to creep down to the stables just to caress the shiny coat. In his typical thoughtless fashion he considered that a short ride wouldn't hurt. _

_The stallion was not an easy rider. Patrick had a hard time saddling the animal then had to endure bucking and pulling. The more the stallion resisted the more DelCassian was determined to get on. His impatience and anger got the better of his judgement. When he was finally seated the animal took off at a breakneck speed. Riding in the dark, outside of known boundaries ended with the inevitable. The horse stepped in a hole, sending his rider flying before keeling over with a fractured leg, certain death to the prize animal. It was hours before they were found. DelCassian was only mildly injured. A concussion kept him in bed for a few days but the animal had to be put down on the spot._

_Clearly Arturo was devastated and inconsolable. Money could not replace the bloodline. They might have saved the horse for sperm if both had been found sooner but the horse was nearly dead by the time they were found. __For over a year, Arturo mourned the loss of his horse. Patrick, in one of his few acts of contrition paid back all the money and found a similar type horse but the friendship was never the same._

'_**My friend, it is not that you caused the death of my magnificent animal. It is that you abused my hospitality by disregarding my wishes in pursuit of your selfish pleasure. This is not friendship.'**_

* * *

Jacob returned to the present with a start. Through the layers of energy he could feel the coldness of the words. He also knew that the incident between the men would cause a further strain in their relationship. At the intersection between what once was and the present time, energy filled with pain and revenge hovered like a cloud over the adversaries. Patrick Sr. felt he had made amends. He truly believed that what was broken would be fine between them again if he made reparation at least financially.

Jacob, looking through his mind's eye at the two men, knew he would have to take up the story from Arturo's perspective. The pain of betrayal, experienced by the Brazilian went deep. His ego demanded retribution. He felt the need to exercise absolute power over his friend now turned challenger.

Jacob was sickened by the story. As it unraveled in his mind, he kept faithful to the needs of the story which would have impacted young Patrick. Gabriella was not clearly defined. On the periphery of it all was the debauchery, drunkenness, and immorality which underpinned all their actions.

Over the past couple of days, Jacob's own senses were heightened by his lovemaking. He had been transported, if only temporarily to a new dimension. The encounter with Karen Murlock gave him a different perspective on sensuality. He realized that a balance was needed so that he could differentiate the importance between love and sex.

Jacob had always loved Cathy. He had never engaged with another female but some of the blatant sexual actions of other women had to be understood in the context of what he was experiencing in this case.

Patrick DelCassian's life seemed to be tormented by unfulfilled love. What would make him choose between the love of God and the ultimate relationship with the antithesis of everything sacred. Gabriella DelCassian represented, at least outwardly, the sinner. Jacob hoped he would find something to redeem both of them as the story unfolds.

He extinguished the candle and allowed the beeswax smoke to rise over his body in an act of purification.


	11. Chapter 11

Jacob left his room in the chambers and walked slowly towards the tunnel exit. Very little real time had elapsed and yet he had covered a period of years in the life of people who were unfamiliar to him. He walked slowly, rehashing the important points in the saga, commiting them to memory while trying not to lose the underlying essence of the story. It had been a revealing foray into the past of strangers, which left him feeling weakened and vulnerable.

Jacob had not fully learned to protect himself on these astral travels when he sought intimate knowledge of characters from outside his genetic family DNA. In order to get the most out of a saga, he had to connect with his inner thought process to bring understanding to the images which flashed through his mind. If he separated his astral body too far from his physical body, he was unable to ask questions and identify location, the important characters being revealed and a reasonable sense of timing. Just hovering over a scene like a bird in flight did not allow him to really access the heart of the story.

One thing he liked was the ability to end a tale of his own free will. It would have been frightening to think that he could get lost in a time warp and never find his way back to the present. Jacob wished he had more knowledge and information. Just as he had been guided to ask for a glimpse into the life of Patrick DelCassian, he wished they would guide him in ways of being an effective seer into the past. Jacob instinctively understood much of what he was doing but clearly there were techniques which would be helpful. Sometimes the voices of his ancestors were too cryptic to make a value judgment on the right way to approach this inborn skill.

'_You are an apprentice in the art of viewing your stories from the Akashic records Jacob. To become a master you must work at it diligently.'_

_'I have no free time to sit in a cave and meditate. You see my life is busy' _he shouted into the cavernous walls_._

_'Nothing comes easy child. Make time!'_

Jacob felt a growl rise in him and suppressed it. He was angry at the expectation that he should know and understand everything in both worlds. Agitated, he retraced his steps and went into his grandfather's chambers. The old man appeared to be awake and reading, but his glasses were closer to the end of his nose than his eyes, a sure sign that he was drifting in and out of sleep.

'Gramps, are you awake?'

'Oh Jacob….what time is it? This is a nice surprise.'

'I'm sorry to come by so late. I hope you aren't too tired.'

'For you …never. Come and sit down' he entreated, patting the side of the bed.

Jacob leaned forward and kissed his grandfather's cheek. He never felt too old to show his loving respect.

'What's wrong my child?' Jacob senior raised a hand to touch his grandson shoulder.

'My body feels like it is in turmoil, almost like I am fighting myself.'

'It is called anxiety Jacob. Are you worried about something in particular?'

'I am working on a puzzling case Gramps. My lack of experience in the world makes me feel inadequate to the job ahead.'

'Are you the only one who is aware of it?'

Jacob laughed. 'To be honest, I'm not sure.'

'Don't ever let on to anyone.'

'I feel like the whole world knows already.'

'They don't and you shouldn't make them any wiser. You are a smart young man Jacob. Even if you feel over your head, step back and evaluate the situation. You will see the right path to follow. I could not have given that advice to your father. He went headlong into everything. You know so much more of the world than he did. don't be afraid to take chances.'

Jacob smiled into the blue eyes of his grandfather. They had no genetic connection and yet they were so close. 'Gramps, tell me what would make a man kill his wife?'

'An opinion?' He showed no surprise at the question.

'Yes'

Fear! Fear of not having enough love or having too much can drive us to extremes of behaviour. If you are looking for a motive then consider the possibility that too much love can generate as much tensions in a relationship as hate.

Jacob was taken aback. He didn't expect that answer. 'But my parents love each other so much and I love Cathy.'

'I know you do. But the love is reciprocal. It is the one sided type which seeks to possess, own and destroy. A man who once loved his wife exclusively may find himself in a situation where love changed and it wasn't to his liking or hers for that matter. He may strike out at her hoping to keep her close. Fear would drive both of them.'

'Will we ever know why fear makes us change from within, become someone we don't know?'

'No one knows how they will respond to fear or loss of love. Not everyone will act on it to an extreme like murder, thank God. The motive in your case may have no answers Jacob but if there is one, you'll find it.'

Jacob stayed on to chat a while longer. He felt better. The conversation with his grandfather was encouraging. Jacob senior always provided a practical voice, full of common sense reasoning. He was a respected resource in Jacob's often chaotic world. The disembodied words from a voice he didn't recognize and whose resonance bounced off the wall did not provide the warmth and experience of his grandfather. Jacob spoke a little about the case and was advised to seek out the knowledge of a doctor experienced in the care of the throat. He had heard that there were specialists in a medical field which came into being long after the aging doctor had gone to create his world below the city.

* * *

Jacob's trek across the park to his house was light hearted. He could see the light glowing in the study. Cathy was hard at work on her project. If she was preoccupied, he would spend a little time with his father. Jacob sensed that more of the story would invade his dreams in the night. He wasn't avoiding the inevitable, just gathering strength from all his reliable sources before facing a complex tale sure to challenge his sense of moral dignity.

On opening the front door, Jacob immediately sensed that there would be no confidences with his father. He could hear the sound of laughter coming from down the hall. Mia and Cilla were getting a delightful bedtime story. His father's voice could be heard rumbling out the occasional sound followed by delighted giggles. In another area, Catherine and Sue were talking about food. He went upstairs without a word. Cathy had fallen asleep in the cozy chair. A pile of papers were threatening to fall from her lap at any moment. He ran forward to grab the unstable bundle.

'Jacob, you're home!. Did you eat?'

He kissed his wife in appreciation of her considerate ways but his non commital grunt was barely audible. 'How did you make out? Is your assignment done?'

'Yes. Did you eat?'

Jacob could not evade an answer to the question. Cathy's little snooze had refreshed her. They both agreed that a short walk and a late snack at the deli might just fill the hunger gap. Jacob loved to walk when he was troubled. Who better than his wife to share the last of the evening shadows. They had missed a couple of their dates nights since the arrest of DelCassian. The thought of just passing time unfettered, being with his undemanding wife, chased away the last of his blues before someone else's past invaded his present.

On their return, Jacob had been inclined to sit in the living room and let Cathy sleep. He considered that his night wanderings might disturb her but she insisted on being at his side while he traversed the unknown. She drew him to bed and lay quietly beside his vibrating body as he breathed himrself into the past.

* * *

_Unlike his storybook, tall, dark and handsome American friend, Arturo captured the best of his fair-haired Venetian mother and German descent Brazilian father. His wavy light brown hair and hazel eyes made him a standout. What he lacked in height, he gained in a sharp and shrewd mind. He followed his own father into medicine, an honorable profession which gained him access to the second love of his life, women. Arturo's father left his medical practice early to enter local then state politics, a move which contributed to his early demise from a stroke . Arturo had no desire to engage in the thrust and parry of politics in a country undergoing often violent military coup d'etat. Unlike his father he intended to live long and well. After graduation from a US Medical school, he returned home and started out with a limited Obstetrical and Gynecological practice working only with women and their issues. It wasn't long before he realized that women needed more. At the end of their childbearing days, excess fat, sagging and bulging bellies, hips and breasts became the focus of the Brazil's wealthiest women. They all wanted to look young again._

_Arturo had no heart or stomach for treating the poor. He was wealthy by birth and disdainful of the humble working classes. Getting out of the business of delivering babies and removing useless female parts allowed him to spend his limited surgical time making women look beautiful again. By switching his specialty to Reconstructive Surgery he was able to charge a high price to a very exclusive clientele. Professionally, Dr. DeCordoba was universally adored by all his female patients. One thing Arturo held sacred was the ability given to him to do the delicate and meticulous work of a plastic surgeon. When his patients recovered from their operations he wanted them to look spectacular. Their endless gratitude was enough to feed his starving ego. In between his days of work, he entertained lavishly at his Fazenda, in the southern state of Rio Grande do Sul. Few noticed that Arturo rarely drank alcohol. When he worked, it was imperative that his mind was clear and hands steady. His drug of choice was sex._

_Depending on who was asked, Arturo could be described as warmly charming or decisively cold. Gender and station in life made the difference. The skilled surgeon was as charismatic to his rich and needy female patients as he was cruel to his wife and those who worked for him. By the time he was forty, he had been through three wives and would soon be discarding a fourth, who declared that he loved his horses more than her. It was a true sentiment. Arturo did love his horses. He was a true Gaucho._

_His greatest disappointment and the one driving force in his life was the inability of any of his wives to give him a son. His ego would never have allowed him to consider that he may be at fault. Anyone would conclude that a man of such stature and virility should be able to father a child. In his cruel moments, the blame fell to the women, sometimes with blows which did nothing to generate either love or conception._

_As he watched a car recede from sight carrying his fourth and final wife, Arturo felt a blind rage overtake him. It was one of the few times when he was not entertaining guests from abroad whose partying would have help to ease his tensions. He ordered the saddling of a particular high spirited horse to help him ride out his frustrations. Hours later, anger dissipated he returned slowly to his home. On the way, he stopped to take notice of a woman and her daughter walking back from the fields. He knew them by sight. The mother and daughter were both born on the ranch in the small huts allocated to some workers. The girl caught his eye. He knew her to be about 17 or 18. Her grandmother had been his nanny. He searched his mind to remember her name._

_Mother and daughter stopped at the sound of the horses hooves and stepped aside to wait for the rider to pass. They bowed respectfully. Both were shocked when the Senor stopped. His cruelty was legendary to those who lived on the ranch but he could also be generous when he was well pleased with a job done. Marietta waited. Her daughter stood partially hidden behind her._

_Arturo knew that Marietta had weathered many storms in her life. She had a growing brood of children. The girl holding on to her was the first._

_'Come here girl' he coaxed in a deceptive voice._

_'Senor?'_

_Arturo leaned over and pulled her up on the back of the horse. He asked no questions. Marietta knew what the outcome would be for her daughter. Her eyes begged Gabriella to be nice to the Senor. It was inevitable that she would become his latest plaything but he would be generous if she pleased him. Maybe when he was done with her, she would get a better job in the house. Such a job would benefit Marietta and all her children._

_Arturo never had to rape a woman in his life. Former clients, friends and wives of friends threw themselves at him daily. When he decided to take Gabriella to his bed, it was clear she was a virgin and had little experience with men. To his own surprise he was a considerate lover, generating a warmth that was well beyond his normal demeanour. Temporarily free from the fear of abuse, Gabriella relaxed not hating the feel of a soft bed for the very first time in her life._

_In the weeks to follow, Arturo found, to his dismay that he had grown to feel affection for the young woman who was guileless and giving. She did his bidding with none of the coyness he had come to expect from more experienced women. It was a shock to him when she announced her pregnancy. In the muddled mind of a man who refuses to face reality, he beat her for her unfaithfulness. Hardly daring to believe that, of all the well nourished women who had graced his bed in the sanctity of marriage, none had been able to conceive from him. That the urchin of a housemaid should succeed seemed a cruel irony. He refused to believe in the possibility of such a miracle. He had blamed women in the past for their failure to conceive. He now believed that this pregnancy was only possible through her unfaithfulness. Gabriella returned home disgraced, never understanding how she could have displeased him._

_Marietta was beside herself at the vision of her daughter bruised and bleeding. Her maternal anger knew no bounds. Realizing what it might cost her, she none the less marched down to the main house and confronted the Senor with all her rage. Arturo was initially shocked at being addressed by his worker. Her words, in defense of her daughter, made him feel surprisingly contrite. Marietta was perhaps one of the few women who could command some respect. Her mother had been his nanny, loving him when his own mother was away acting like a socialite in Rio, in Italy or America. Marietta was strangely like a foster sister. On some level, he conceded a sense of shame for his actions. If the child was truly his it should be treated with all due consideration as a deCordoba. Only his sister's children remained to inherit the vast estates of the family. A son could change anything. Arturo had all the skills availabel to confirm the parentage of the baby. Maybe he would wait._

_'**I won't harm her again Marietta. Let her stay home with you. I will take care of her. Call me when the child is to be born.'**_

* * *

Jacob knew there was another story, more compelling than this. He closed his mind to it. In the dark, he felt the pull of the cord which bound him to his body. He returned to his physical self, rolled over and wrapped an arm around his sleeping wife.


	12. Chapter 12

'Thanks for meeting with me again Cathy. I am sure that you were shocked when I told you about Brian. I hope you haven't been too mad at me.'

'To be honest Merindia, I have been so busy with Jacob and Mom. They are going through a lot right now and I wanted to be as supportive as I could.'

'You are such a good person Cathy. I really value our friendship and what you have done for me.'

The two women fell silent. Cathy was too embarrassed to make any rejoinder to her friend's words. What she said had been true. Jacob's involvement in the case and Catherine's distress over her friend occupied a lot of Cathy's time but she had been dreading this meeting since the day Merindia dropped her bombshell about Brian. Even with time, Cathy still could not come to terms with Brian and Edgar Raeburn.

'I know why you dislike him Cathy.'

'Do you really? Are you sure?' Cathy's tone took on a harsh note but Merindia did not flinch.

'Brian told me everything.' Her calm voice was assured and confident.

'Everything? I don't believe he is capable of telling the truth about anything. He says he loves you?' At the affirmative nod, she continued. 'How do you know? He has issues with love.'

'Yes, but he doesn't have issues with me. That's all in the past Cathy. You know what your husband is capable of. Brian is a new person.'

'My husband? What does Jacob have to do with this?'

'Don't you know how powerful he is and the wonderful healing ability he has In his hands?'

Cathy's eyes dropped. She didn't always think too deeply about the unique powers her husband could exhibit. It seemed that he could work some kind of magic from time to time but even as his wife, she felt his skill was so far out of her comprehension, it was pointless to pursue an understanding of it.

'You don't get it do you?'

'No. I wasn't raised in all that kind of magical stuff. My life was about getting food, keeping my mother healthy. What Jacob does......sometimes it seems crazy to me. He is just a wonderful man who I love.'

'Well, he helped Brian to overcome his …er… problems.' Merindia felt a sense of urgency. She knew it was important to help Cathy understand her feelings. She leaned forward, anxiety adding a tremor to her voice. 'I love him Cathy and want to be his wife. I know he is a lot older but right now he's like a hero to me. At least if we marry, it will be for love and not like marrying Virgil who I didn't love at all.'

'You know Merindia, at this moment I feel like you would be better off with Virgil. I just can't trust Brian.'

'Ok. I am sorry you feel that way and I will try to accept it. Just the same, I am going forward with this. I hope it won't spoil our relationship.'

Cathy bit her lip before checking her watch. 'I have to go. Just give me some time. Right now, I….can't support this relationship Merindia. I'm sorry.'

Merindia watched Cathy leave and walk down the street, on her way to class. Unknown to Cathy, the ability to see the future was as much a gift to Merindia as Jacob's ability to see the past. The young woman knew her heart was right about a future with Brian. She also knew that Cathy had to undergo a crisis of faith before her spirit could accept the love of those who had hurt her deeply. Her work underground was a starting point for her healing journey but the women below were only one part of the process. Much of it was centered on a desire to ease her mother's memory in death as she could not have done in life. Since Brian and Edgar contributed much to the effects of the illness with caused Lena's death, and their own refusal to accept her daughter, the core of forgiveness towards them remained a tight knot in Cathy's stomach.

* * *

Cathy picked up her pace. She hated being reminded that Brian had somehow converted from being a pain in the butt to someone even remotely socially acceptable. What he and their shared grandfather had done to her and others brought such pain. Jacob had often tried to make a case for mercy but she steadfastly refused. Cathy didn't think herself too harsh but she was definitely unforgiving.

Thoughts of Jacob invaded her reverie. His night had been fraught with tension and anxiety as he struggled to look into a past that wasn't his. The characters were mean, violent and totally devoid of any human feeling. The people who filled Jacob's real world were kind and generous. Work was a different matter. He understood the rage which drove his clients to commit heinous acts but that was outside his personal self. In the DelCassian case, he was inviting the energies of the past into his home and heart, hoping to find a solution which would help the accused man. Cathy wasn't sure it was worth the anxiety.

Jacob had woken up bathed in sweat, as if he had travelled to the very place which invaded his dreams. His recounting of the details, left her horrified. Cathy had no qualms about listening to the stories. She had not lived as sheltered a life as Jacob. She knew all about the underbelly of the beast from sharing a troubled life with her mother and her work at the PD's office. Jacob was just learning of life's harshness and cruelties but, as evidenced by his support of Brian, he was also very forgiving.

As she relived their early morning moments, she recalled Merindia's words. _Jacob's power to heal!_ She had no idea what that meant. Dreams were one thing, healing another. The thought that he could alter a body just by doing something weird made her nerves tingle. If Jacob could control how bodies work, could he control everything else? She knew he had some exceptional skills. After all, Vincent was himself unique. Cathy wondered if Jacob had ever manipulated her. As soon as the thought came, it went. She was a free agent and in control of her body. All she had ever felt from him was a deep love. She did admit to herself that there were parts of him that she would never understand. She shivered, wondering what it was that made Jacob so unique.

Cathy comforted herself with the knowledge that she could help him find his way in the mundane world. It was a place he didn't always inhabit physically or spiritually. Just that morning she had told him about a place where he could buy books which gave information about the 'New Age'. Cathy had no interest in those things but the store with the inviting smell of sage incense, and other herbs drew her in one day. it was called Esotericum. She told Jacob about it. 'Google it first. Maybe they have what you need' she had said casually.

Giving her head a shake, Cathy tried to throw off any further morbid thoughts. She entered the school building with deep pride hardly daring to believe that she was on the verge of graduating. She had no wish to get too distracted by deep analysis. More of that would come later when she had her degree.

* * *

Jacob stood in the store entrance looking vaguely up and down wondering where to start. It was obvious that he was a novice to the workings of a New Age Culture. The store was dark, despite front lighting. There were tables with candles and incense placed strategically about the corners. Book shelves created aisles. Large glass cases along the perimeter held various talisman, cards, oils, statues. The scent was overwhelming at first. It was deathly quiet in the early morning. Jacob felt none of the heart stopping fear usually generated by those wondering if a spell was being cast on them. The space reminded him of Miss Betty's store where he obtained his herbs.

'Can I help you find something Sir?'

'I don't know. At night I have dreams. I need to understand them better.'

'A book about dream interpretation perhaps?'

'No. I don't dream symbolically. I dream real events or at least I think they are real.'

'Precognition?'

'No again. They are usually events in the past.'

'Do you mean that you see events which have already occurred?'

'Yes, kind of like that.'

'Well, we have a yes at last. Are you…. astral travelling?'

'That's what my guides say but I don't know enough about it. Do you have any books written by someone knowledgeable? I need to know how to travel safely in that realm. I also need more information about it and the guides who speak to me.'

The short balding man, dressed in black from head to toe, nodded. 'We have a whole shelf of information over here.' He extended his hand. It pointed in a vague direction across the store. 'Follow me.'

'Unbelievable!' Jacob's eyes widened as he surveyed at least 60-70 books on the topic. He quickly ran his finger over the edges of several looking for a title which would meet his needs. 'There's so many. Can you recommend one or two?'

The man, named Todd, pulled three from the shelf. Jacob decided on all of them. 'How long have you been here? My wife recommended this place.' Looking around, he could see from the well worn floors and dated bookshelves that the business had been around a long time.

'My Dad opened this store in the days before the New Age renaissance hit the world. Back then, we were persecuted and harassed for practicing witchcraft. Now we are being embraced.'

'Are you witches?'

'No. I am a book store owner who happens to love all things about the craft. Take that as you will.'

Jacob hated to admit ignorance of the subject. He did not feel uncomfortable however in the man's presence. He also knew he would return. 'I have a lot to learn but right now I would like to ask you a simple question. I need to know if what I see in the astral realm is real.'

'Energy does not lie. What you sense when you are astral travelling is interpreted through your own filters. If you have a true heart and open mind you will know that what you see and feel is truth.'

Jacob paid for his books and left the store. He had already visited with Patrick DelCassian and got exactly the same responses as before. The AG, who should know better, would not answer any questions. Jacob knew that all his information would have to come from another plane. If he could trust it, the knowledge would hold answers to the mystery of DelCassian's reluctance to speak for himself. Perhaps his dead wife would be able to provide the answers. Jacob remembered accessing information to help him understand Marina, who he could not help and Jeri whose children were saved. A case coming to court was another matter.

By the time Jacob reached work he had already completed one book. A lot of questions were answered. He could see how it was necessary to protect himself on his astral travels. He also had a clearer understanding of the process of separating a part of his energy from the physical body. Allowing it to engage in astral reconnaissance, while another part of him was left sleeping and unaware, required a courage which came with faith. He imagined it to be akin to death. Jacob had heard stories about many people who left their bodies only to return for some unknown reason. Those events were called _near death experiences_. He was sure his mother experienced such an event. There would be similarities to what he was doing, except for a different level of consciousness in the action.

Jacob also learned that he was not unique. Many people had done it before. Those souls who were the religious leaders and teachers of their time had access to knowledge only through these activities. They acted as a go between bringing news from the Gods and spirits to their people.

As the day progressed and Jacob gave thought to what he was doing, he knew that his own ancestry must have had some priests or shamans. This gift of his did not come easily or frivolously. He felt it was handed down judiciously to very few. There was a cost which must be weighed carefully. As he read on, Jacob understood that he would be able to see an event in its entirety but his judgments must be of the heart, where the highest good would always reside. The ability to see beyond himself was a gift which must be tempered with reality. Jacob felt he was able to make good on his solemn promise to be faithful to the truth, both when he was called to the bar after graduation and again, when he learned that his mother was alive.

He now understood why that promise was so important.

The young lawyer, light hearted for the first time in days, was able to complete a fair amount of work. He spoke with Wesley about their plan of action when DelCassian would be in court. The pile of files on his desk was getting smaller as the day progressed. Oats never let it be an expectation that all other jobs ceased if a staff member was working on a high profile case. Jacob didn't let the extra work get to him. In fact, pushing himself a little more worked to his physical advantage. Excitement and astral travel were making it hard to get any sleep.

Jacob did not expect to spend the evening with his wife. She was in the throes of exams and assignments. An unexpected text message late that afternoon brought him to the school. They met at their usual place. She kissed him lightly and motioned for them to leave.

'I want to talk to you someplace where there are no distractions.'

'Am I in the doghouse again?'

'Jacob! You are so dumb when you say that. By the way, what would you do if you were in the doghouse?'

Feeling lighthearted, he licked the side of her face before panting in her ear. They laughed as she pushed him away. 'You're happy tonight. Did things go well today?'

'I got some answers to questions. Thanks for pointing me in the right direction.'

There was a smaller more intimate restaurant located not far away. Secluded booths at the back gave some privacy to the customers. The menu was mainly vegetarian. 'No bones for you Fido' Cathy observed glancing quickly at the menu.

'I am switching my persona to rabbit. They have some good pasta. I think I'll go with that.'

They both agreed to share dishes. Cathy did not want to speak while eating. When they were done and waiting for an herbal tea, he looked at her expectantly.

'Have you spoken with Brian or Merindia lately?'

'No. I haven't had time. He hasn't even called me. Did he call you?'

'I had lunch with Merindia a few days ago and again today before class. She and Brian are in love and getting married.'

Jacob was silent. He knew that his wife was not reconciled with her cousin. Neither was the relationship unexpected. He knew that Merindia had been smitten with Brian, seeing him as a hero for helping to rehabilitate her father.

'You don't seem surprised. Did you know about this?'

'No, but I could see the writing on the wall. She was so ….' Jacob threw up his hands. He couldn't describe what his heart could see.

'I like Merindia. I don't want to see her hurt.'

'Surely she is perceptive enough to know her own heart. I'm sure she can discern what is good in Brian.'

Cathy fell silent again. She had something else on her mind. 'She said you helped Brian in some way. She asked me if I had any idea how powerful you are. I know you have some unusual skills Jacob but I….I….'

Jacob grabbed her hand. 'Are you afraid of me Cathy?'

'What does your power mean Jacob? Can you control things…like..me?'

'KitCat, never. That isn't what this means. I am not even sure myself what it means sometimes. I can direct energy to change certain things, pathways of nerve impulse in the body but I have no control over your body except in our love. I can't read your mind, only your heart.'

'I'm sorry Jacob. I love you so much. Deep down, I know it **is **of my own free will. You don't place any burdens on me but I think I am more afraid that I don't measure up.'

'My love you are so down to earth and practical. You are the very foundation on which I rest my weary head and troubled soul. I don't know what life will have to offer me or us but I do know that I very much need you to be my anchor, even as you need me to take you on flights of fancy sometimes. Believe in me and us. We are all that matters.'

Jacob's heartfelt plea struck just the right chord in his wife. He could see so clearly in her demeanour that emotional insecurities from a troubled childhood lay deep below the confident front she portrayed to the world. He could never erase them. He could only provide a stabilizing love which he hoped would be enough. The talk was necessary for them. They headed home arm in arm. Jacob had a good day and needed to prepare himself for the night ahead. He wondered if the story would come to an end.


	13. Chapter 13

_Arturo had much time for reflection during Gabriella's pregnancy. When he should have used the period to look at his own actions, he did not. Most of the time was spent wondering how he could introduce the infant into his world as a legitimate heir. He could envision Gabriella as the nanny. Like his own early childhood caregiver, she would live well in the house and be able to care for her child as long as she kept quiet. Mostly Arturo was interested in having her close, and perhaps discreetly continue to be his lover. He needed to find a legitimate woman of class whose name could be inserted as the mother. Even though the problem occupied much of his time it did not stop him from continuing his degenerate lifestyle. _

_Despite his assurances to the contrary, Marietta and her children were not the recipient of much more largesse. Hardly enough food was available. Usually what came down from the main house was barely enough to ensure Gabriella ate, but not well. Marietta accepted the food but her circumstances did not improve significantly. She wondered how the Senhor could be so thoughtless. Like most men from all stations in life, he wanted to wait until the child was born for confirmation that it was his. Marietta wished she had more control over her life and that of her children. Everything she tried never seem to move her any further ahead. She wondered if there would ever be a time when her life would be easy._

_In the meantime, Arturo was also deeply involved in the purchase of a magnificent stallion. He could easily put everything else out of his mind in the service of his expensive hobby. The arrival of the beast also brought hoards of friends and aficionados to the ranch. Included in the group was the American friend Patrick. Marietta knew about him. He had raped her years ago. Her second son was his but she told no one. The next time he came for her she had a knife. DelCassian kept silent and kept away. _

_The tragic events which changed lives forever happened as the year was coming to an end. The moon was nearly full on the night when Gabriella went into labour. The lunacy drew Patrick to the stables where he coveted the magnificent beast of his friend . In spite of an inner caution he took the stallion out. Far away in a New York suburb, a car skidded off the road fatally injuring Patrick's wife, and permanently disabling his young son. _

_In the heart of South America, the sultry night air was stifling. Marietta realized her daughter was in labour. Gabriella was weak. She did not have a good pregnancy and struggled to cope with the contractions. Marietta knew it would be a long night but she waited until the labour was well established before sending out her oldest boy to call the Senhor. _

_Arturo stumbled from his study where he had been sleeping in a chair. He surveyed the bodies sprawled out in his living area. The men who came to celebrate the purchase of the horse had drunk themselves into a stupor. He did not see his friend Patrick, who was likely with some woman. Arturo shook his head. Something about the scene before him was sickening. He walked out the front door and inhaled some fresh air. The sound of a whiney from a horse alerted him. It wasn't one he recognized. Something drew him down to the stable. His beautiful Arabian was missing! The young stable hand who was to watch the horse was nowhere to be seen._

_Furious, he shouted, throwing anything and everything in sight. He left the stables and made his way back to the house. In the dark he was approached by a young boy. Arturo was in no mood to listen. He thought it was the errant stable hand and cuffed the boy in anger. He redirected him in harsh tones 'Wake up the gauchos boy. My horse is gone!'_

_Jose did not want to be deterred from his mission but the strong and painful cuff to his ear stopped his protests. He ran towards the building which housed the men who worked on the Fazenda. His mother's entreaty was lost in his fear. _

_By the time Patrick and the injured horse were found, Gabriella had given birth to her baby. The blood loss she suffered after the birth could not be stilled by her mother. As Arturo put the gun to the stallion's head, Gabriella gave up her life, her squalling baby crying out for food._

* * *

Jacob felt himself drawn back to the present. He resisted strongly. His astral mind was fully engaged in the scene before him. Anxious to move forward he felt his body jerk with the return of his astral energy.

Listening intently Jacob assessed his own status before orienting his senses to the sound of Cathy's breathing. His mind wandered downstairs. He located his father's heartbeat. It was strong and steady. Catherine's irregular beat was within its normal limits. He heard no crying from the girls. Jacob wondered what could have drawn him back into the present.

'_You need to listen more carefully. Wait for the echoes of words. They are important.'_

Jacob had indeed skimmed over the events of the night. His spirit guide was telling him to return to the scene and be more attentive. Sighing into the darkness, he smiled, happy to have read the books which provided him with increased awareness of the gift of astral travel and the voices which would support him in finding his way. Once again he allowed himself to relax into a semi sleep state and release the seeking astral energy from his being.

* * *

_The death of the beautiful Arabian affected Arturo deeply. In some ways he could not blame his friend for wanting to ride the magnificent beast. Who wouldn't? For a man who professed to love horses, DelCassian demonstrated carelessness by taking on the strength of the horse in an inebriated state. His thoughtless behaviour had been unforgivable. Arturo provided care for his injured friend but wished him to leave as soon as he was able._

_From the time Arturo discovered the missing stallion almost a full day passed before he was able to turn his attention to anything else. The ensuing excitement over the animal's death and the transport of Patrick to a local hospital left everyone breathless. In a single quiet moment, hours later, he remembered that young Jose had come to him. It was the first time he connected the young boy's appearance with another possibility. His thoughts flew to Gabriella. He sent out a member of the house staff to find out what was happening, in the same moment as young Jose was returning to knock tentatively on the door at the back. The bruise on his face shamed Arturo. _

'_Senhor. My mother begs you to come now.'_

_He did not ask any further questions. Despite his fatigue, he wanted to deliver the baby if Gabriella was in labour. He quickly made his way to their hut at the far end of the Fazenda. There was no sound from within. He pushed open the door. Marietta sat crying. In the corner, on a hard pallet lay the body of her daughter. The trail of blood on the floor told the tale. Arturo said nothing. He walked over and looked at the face of the young woman who had carried his long awaited child. The yellow tinge of her skin told him that her pre-birth condition had not been ideal. The blood which flowed from her was still not clotted. It was little comfort that he likely could not have saved her, but he wondered why her pregnancy had not been healthy._

'_Where is the child Marietta? Dead too?'_

'_No. It lies here.'_

_In a basket on the floor lay an infant wrapped in a sheet. It was quiet, sleeping. Arturo walked over and looked at the face. He knew it was his child instantly. The features of his mother were unmistakable. He unwrapped it carefully. The shame he felt, mingled with anger in his heart. His long awaited child should not have been born under these conditions but he had no one but himself to blame. _

_He observed the infant, checking its body from head to foot. He removed the sheet from the genitals and felt a momentary shock. He looked at Marietta. He wondered what she thought. He said nothing. Gabriella was her daughter and now she was dead. The infant would be one more mouth to feed. She had no reason to believe that Arturo would be any different from the other men in her life._

'_I would give the child the name of my daughter.' The voice was flat, emotionless._

_Arturo nodded in response._

'_Why didn't she eat Marietta? Was she sick?'_

'_You promised to care for my daughter. We got nothing except a few scraps. Without her working, I could not feed the others.'_

'_I instructed Rui to see that you had food.'_

'_Pig food?'_

_Arturo was furious. 'Why wasn't I informed?'_

_The look he received would not have been tolerated at any other time. Marietta did not respond to the question. ' I will ask Nene to feed the baby. I am too old now.'_

'_No. I will provide milk for the baby. You will come to the Fazenda and live and keep house for me. The child will grow in the house and call me Tio. No one but you is to care for this baby.'_

'_Rui?'_

'_Leave him to me.'_

_Arturo could not bring himself to acknowledge the child as his own. He would take responsibility for its growth and development but he anticipated problems in the future and it would be better if few knew that he was the father. It would only provide more gossip and diminish his stature. _

_In one sweeping gesture, Arturo banished all the social parasites who lived on the periphery of his world, including his friend Patrick. The news of the accident which cost Patrick his wife and disabled his son, was not something he would wish on anyone, but Arturo was relieved to ensure his safe transport back to New York as soon as he could travel. The loss of his stallion was still fresh. It was clear their relationship would never be the same. He wanted everyone out of the house while he made the adjustments to his home. Wit__hin days, Marietta moved into the servant's quarters in the house with her children. They would all be educated but the care of his child was Marietta's most important job. Where he had failed so many people in his life before, he would at least try to do his best by this one family. _

* * *

Jacob fell into a deep sleep. Now that he could assess situations from a more intimate perspective, he realized how compelling a story could be. Initially he thought that Gabriella was one and the same, who later became DelCassian's wife. The need for plastic surgery was easily explained away but that wasn't the case. How Gabriella's child became the wife of the younger DelCassian was still a mystery to be explored. The need for sleep, which would allow him to awaken refreshed, superseded everything.

* * *

Jacob! This is a surprise. Please have a seat.'

The young doctor who had been so gracious when Mea was first ill, smiled at Jacob. Serge Correia had been so impressed with the Wells family. He was sorry when their frequent contact ended. Jacob had been particularly helpful. He had a quick mind and grasped the essence of information with little effort.

'Is this a social visit? I hope Mea is doing well.'

'She is Serge. I don't know much about babies but she is plump and happy. Her colour is almost normal these days and she laughs a lot.'

'I am happy to hear that.' It was clear to the doctor that Jacob had something on his mind. 'Were you reconsidering having your blood tested?'

'No. Cathy and I are not planning to have any children just yet. I will probably save personal assessments for later. I think I just wanted to ask you some questions unrelated to my family but related to my work.'

'Your work?'

'As a lawyer. I have a puzzling case. I won't ask specifics about the case but medicine has so many branches, I don't know who to go to for the information I need. Maybe you can help me to identify some colleagues who specialize in certain skills but I want to ask you about DNA.'

'Huge topic.'

'Keep it simple. I just need the basics of understanding. If I need to, could I call you as an expert witness?'

'Sure….Is it a high profile case?'

'Yes.'

'Ok. It is probably better if you give me an outline of what you need to know. I can then determine what would be helpful. ``

Jacob relaxed. Here was a man who knew his work. He had been kind and supportive of Mea and the family during the transplant crisis. His mother had been less than certain about proceeding with the surgery. Serge had supported her caution even when other team members were pushing her to accept a less than ideal match.

He spoke at length about the work he loved. Jacob took notes but unknown to the young doctor, as he spoke a clear picture of the inner workings of the body's messengers was alive in Jacob's imagination. When they were done, Serge called a colleague to try and beg some time to help out the young man.

* * *

'Thanks for taking the time to see me.'

'No problem. I remember you. We didn't meet but I was part of the team who worked on Mea. She was an absolute champ on the table. She's your sister?'

'Yes. My parents adopted her when her mother died.'

'I see. I understand you are a lawyer?'

Jacob was getting impatient. He wanted to move on but the nice lady who offered to fill in the information missing from his mental file was inclined to chat. She was a youthful middle aged anesthetist sitting idly between cases at the large hospital. She agreed to see him on Serge Correia's request. The tiny side office to the operating rooms could hardly accommodate his frame. He stood at least one foot taller than her.

'I am Dr. Au. Where do you work?'

'I work at the Public Defender's office.'

'Call me Meilyn. Ok, so you are working on a case and there is something you need to know?'

'The deceased was strangled, allegedly by her husband. She actually died of asphyxiation but her neck bones were fractured. There are some inconsistencies which I noted between what the coroner reports and what her husband says in his limited confession.'

'I understand. Shouldn't you see a pathologist though? They are more likely to assess the fractures.'

'You are probably right but I need to understand the functions of the bones in the neck and how you work with them when you put a tube into the ….bronchus?.... to intubate people. I am interested in what pressure you apply and what it means. I also want to know what happens if someone gets regurgitation during this process.'

'You don't want much do you? It took me months to learn all that in anatomy class.'

Jacob smiled. It was an absolutely award winning, baring of his beautiful perfect teeth. He was irresistible. Meilyn smiled in return and launched into a lengthy explanation. Jacob was delighted. He did not come to the interview unprepared. He knew his anatomy and physiology but clarity of the process was lacking. He took further notes but each word fell into his fertile mind. As she spoke, it was as if he could see all the action. He noted the same ability to visualize while he listened to Serge Correia talk about DNA.

Forty five minutes later, he raised a hand to stop Meilyn. 'I think it's as clear as it's going to be. You have been extremely helpful. I thank you.'

* * *

Jacob made his way to work. He felt pieces falling into place. Despite his anxiety to get the whole picture of events from his night time excursions into the astral world, he also worked diligently to access information which could be applied to the case.

Oats was generating some anxiety of his own on this case. It was slow to get moving. The DA's office was pushing to get this case to trial. It was an ongoing battle. Jacob was close to ready but vital information was still missing. He knew it would come.

Trying not to let his frustration show he wound up his work early and left to meet Cathy. They had taken to meeting everyday after her classes. She was almost done her semester and ready to graduate. He loved her energy. When she walked through the door he could feel it. She had been very supportive of his night time restlessness. As he watched her striding towards him, he was reminded again of how much she meant to him. It took a minute before he realized that she looked different.

'Are we going or staying here?'

'If you look like that I think I might just want to go home and not share you with anyone. You look different, beautiful.'

'Jacob, I think I might just want to go home too. These shoes are killing me.'

'I can't remember you going to school like that before.'

'I had a presentation today. I wanted to look a little different. To be honest, I left the house in my usual pants suit but when I went below, Erin had created this for me. I couldn't believe it. She is really skilled.'

Jacob noted that the extra pounds which Cathy had when they met had fallen off her body. She was lovely then. He wasn't sure if he appreciated the loss of her extra pounds. She had been soft and curvy. In recent months she had slimmed down. There was no doubt that she looked stunning in the knee length pencil skirt and pleated blouse. High heels gave her legs a long lean look. He had to admit that either way, he loved her to death. Opting for comfort and possibilities, he took her home.


	14. Chapter 14

'_Mein kinder liebe.' The whispered words could be heard by no one except the bright eyed child staring into the eyes of her father. The expression was one of a few remaining phrases which Arturo remembered from his deceased German grandmother. It was unlikely that anyone on the Fazenda would have understood but Arturo still dared not acknowledge openly that the child of Gabriella was his own. If he thought anyone was fooled by the big changes at the main house, they said nothing. Arturo had no child with four wives. It was clear he planned to adopt the little girl. There was no brooding mother to stand in his way. Marietta would be grateful for her new position and say nothing against him taking on the child. No one ever thought he was the biological father._

_Marietta moved in with her brood of kids and prepared to make sweeping changes. The Fazenda had not seen such activity in years. Order and discipline reined. She got rid of the lazy house servants who did not earn one moment of their pay. The serving women were no longer available to guests for sexual favours and the food that was cooked became good and wholesome. She made certain that her children ate well, did their share of the chores and spent a reasonable length of time studying. All she wanted for them was enough of an education to ensure a better future than her own._

_Whenever Arturo was in residence at the Fazenda, he set aside two hours for time alone with his child. With each passing day he grew to love her more and more. He was worried for her future but kept those qualms to himself. Weeks passed and each month the time spent together became longer and longer until there was no separation. Everyone commented that Marietta's grandshild had won the heart of the master._

_The little girl did indeed call him Tio. He was nothing more than an 'uncle' in those early days. Arturo's name for her was soon shortened to Liebe. She lost her mother's given name and answered only to the sweet tones of Tio's summons. By the time she was three years old Liebe seemed to have a mind of her own and it was in full force. She showed no fear. She was fiercely protective of her family. In her simple mind, family included Tio. _

_By age five, Arturo felt confident enough to take her with him on his trips to the capital city for work. Marietta's older daughter Clara, accompanied Arturo to look after Liebe. He was adamant that no strangers should provide care to his child. He also gave his solemn word that he would not touch Clara. Now that he had a child of his own, he was more conscious of his responsibilities. The married women in his social circle were not exempt, but he was more discreet._

_A large change occurred in the character of the Fazenda when the American Patrick DelCassian made good on a promise. The friendship between the two men had been strained since the incident over the priceless Arabian. Arturo relented a little when he heard of the death of DelCassian's wife and the subsequent injuries to the young son. Though not known for fiscal responsibility, Patrick none the less paid off half the cost of the horse and sent a young stallion, with similar blood lines. In time, it would become the most beautiful horse imaginable. No one shared more ohs and ahs than Liebe. _

_The love of horses ran as strong in her blood as her father. She took to the new stallion and insisted on riding him as soon as she could mount. _

_The arrival of the stallion also heralded a change in Liebe. She became rebellious to the standards set by her grandmother. She refused to wear the dresses appropriate for a young girl and insisted on wearing her uncle's breeches so that she could sit astride the horse. Her whole world became riding. _

_In no time she was as comfortable on a horse as on the ground. Arturo could not have been more pleased. When his Liebe called him Papa Tio, he did not correct her._

* * *

Jacob surveyed the landscape of his dreams. It all seemed like such a happy outcome for everyone. Knowing of Gabriella's death saddened the end of his astral observations. _'How could things go so wrong_?_ Her life seemed so promising_.' He knew there were details which couldn't be known to him until they were known to the characters in his dreams. He was tempted to jump ahead to the outcome. Within him he understood that there was a moment when things changed. Jumping ahead might lose the essence of the story's importance. He sighed into the darkness. He wanted to take his mind away from the activities on the Fazenda. Cathy was sleeping soundly. He had no desire to wake her. Their evening had been fulfilling and tender. He wondered if he should just turn off the movie in his head and sleep. Curiosity got the better of him and he slipped back into the activities on the Fazenda.

* * *

_Liebe was so active that her father and grandmother had great difficulty keeping any weight on her. She was on the go from morning to night. She no longer slept in the servants quarters with her grandmother. She had her own room near to PapaTio. Arturo watched silently as his daughter ignored the importance of studying and concentrated all her learning on the care and activity of horses. She knew the names and blood lines of each horse on the ranch but she could not finish her times table nor complete a sentence without several mistakes. Her father refused to worry. Everything he owned would be left to her. Artuor had high hopes that she would be able to rule the ranch and its employees with a firm but gentle hand. Only one thing concerned him. As the years passed he waited and watched._

_Liebe was sixteen the day PapaTio called her into his study. He already had a difficult conversation with Marietta. What he was about to do was distasteful to him but necessity dictated the need for the openness. When Liebe reached puberty, he had asked Marietta to inform his daughter of her body's normal response and her responsibilities of care. He made it clear to the older woman that the conversation was not to contain any myths of the culture. The child was to be told exactly what was entailed in the body and how things should work. Marietta, who never really understood a woman's body from that perspective, was a willing student of Arturo and a good teacher to her granddaughter. Liebe was forewarned. _

_By age sixteen, she still had no need to deal with those female inconveniences first hand. There was no period and no sign of impending feminine shaping. She was embarrassed to be asked about it. During their discussion, she stood before Papatio, defiant, daring for the first time to disobey._

'_I will not go to town and buy dresses. I don't like them.'_

'_Liebe, you have become the Mistress of this place. You will need to carry yourself with decorum. You will entertain, meet people. You can't always look like a gaucho.'_

'_And why not?'_

_Arturo sighed. He felt it was time to put his foot down._

'_You will stop this tomboy behaviour at once and start to act like a lady.'_

'_No!'_

_Father and daughter faced off. Liebe did not run away and cry. Instead she stood, feet firmly planted on the floor ready to do battle._

'_Kinder will not be available to you unless you acquiesce.'_

_Taking away her horse was like a shot to the gut. There was no one who could replace the horse in her heart, except PapaTio. She never had to choose between either before. All defiance left her._

'_Tell me what I must do to satisfy your blackmail scheme but I will not like it. Kinder is to be a champion. I need to continue to train her.'_

'_We will go to town to see Dr. Carcao. Then we will buy some clothes and you will have a party to celebrate this milestone in your life.'_

_Arturo and Liebe left for town just days later. In the meantime, her grandmother prepared the Fazenda for a party. Every year since her third birthday, Dr. Carcao, a close friend and colleague of Arturo had examined Liebe. Arturo's concerns about his daughter were well known to the pediatric specialist. She was now sixteen and what she should have experienced at this point in her life had not come to pass._

_After the Pediatrician's examination, he spoke with Arturo in the consulting room. Liebe meanwhile wandered the streets with her Aunt. She should have been looking at dresses. Instead she inveigled Clara to follow her to a near by store which displayed art- work featuring horses. She was unaware of the troubling conversation between her Doctor and her Father. She did know that she had been found wanting. She wasn't sure what was missing from her life but she hoped to get it soon. Clearly her Father was worried._

'_Joao what do you think?'_

'_I think you have to make a decision. She has almost none of the normal characteristics. I don't want to do an internal exam and spoil her for someone else but she has no sign of a period coming. We could try her on the new birth control pill, stimulate things with some hormones but that is risky.'_

'_I think she will fight me anyway. Is there any natural substances the native women use that she would take?'_

'_Yes, I can work on something for her.'_

'_You are sure she is a girl?'_

'_Of course! Arturo I have seen many girls like her. She is a woman. She is just lacking the hormone support. Sure she is unusual but definitely female. If she doesn't turn around I know of a man in Paris who may be able to help. There is also the Clinic in the capital.'_

'_Don't know if I trust her to any of those men yet.'_

_Arturo left the Consultorio with a heavy heart. He was close to his own retirement. The thought of dealing with a teenage daughter facing surgery left him cold._

_Liebe settled on a skirt and blouse rather than the dress. She felt awkward and uncomfortable although she was much complimented. She was well received for her birthday party and much admired for her skill with horses. At the party, there were no representatives from the wealthy landowners who lived in the vicinity. Arturo's child was considered an adoption. She wasn't shunned entirely in the community but the celebration would not be well received by the class conscious rich. The event was celebrated as an outdoor barbeque. As soon as the evening ended, Liebe was back in her riding breeches._

_True to her assessment, the mare Kinder became a champion. Her sire was the young stallion which Patrick DelCassian had sent out years ago. Kinder was beautiful and under the hands of Liebe she ran like the wind. Arturo did not stop his daughter from entering contests throughout Brazil. She was skilled and handled a horse as well as he did. He had hired an experienced trainer from the US who worked with Liebe and Kinder to improve performance. During that year, the horse and rider won all trials. Arturo was proud, even as his heart sank. He could see the trip to Europe looming. As far as he was concerned Liebe would never find happiness if ……

* * *

_

Jacob woke from his slumber for the second time. He knew sleep would not return to him. Again, he hesitated to wake Cathy who would have a busy and intense day in front of her. Jacob slipped out of bed, drew on his pajamas and left the room as quietly as he could. It wasn't that early or late. The sun was just beginning to shed a little glow on the horizon. Full light came quickly in the early spring days. There was some activity down stairs in the kitchen. His father was up. Jacob went to join him.

Vincent was quite useless in the kitchen. His hands, though delicate and tender when needed, stumbled through simple tasks. Meals had always been prepared by a cook below and the community ate as one from a large kitchen. Judging by the smell, Vincent had mastered the art of toast and hot chocolate. Cilla sat with him.

'You two are up early. Didn't sleep much?'

'Hungry Cub.'

'I just can't seem to keep up with this little girl these days. She is growing like a weed and always looking for food.'

Jacob looked at his adopted sister. She had grown quite a bit through the winter. 'Jerri was quite tall and so is Marcus. Now that she is eating well, her natural genes are kicking in.' Jacob had his hand on the top of her head. Cilla looked up and smiled.

'Cub Hungry?'

Both Vincent and Jacob laughed. Cilla had turned the two words around to make a completely different meaning. She joined in the laughter but continued to eat.

'How is your case coming along?'

'The pieces are falling into place. To be honest, I am accessing some pertinent information from another dimension.' Jacob didn't need to explain what that meant. Vincent never asked. 'Do you think its wrong of me to look at another person's life through a different lens Dad?'

'It would depend on your intention son. If you do so to help and you do no harm to those living, you must then hold your own counsel and use the information wisely.'

'Sounds like good advice.'

Jacob sipped on a cup of tea. He watched Cilla play in her bowl of cereal. The circles danced in the milk, bobbing up and down to her amusement.

'I went ahead and took down that wall Jacob.'

'I'm sorry Dad. I have been so caught up, I forgot all about it.'

'Then you don't have to hold yourself responsible for the outcome. Let me show you what is there.'

The two men waited until Cilla finished then went downstairs to the basement.

The cubby hole had been lined with bricks beneath the gyprock. Vincent had taken them down one by one and stacked them to one side of the wall. Inside was a pile of boxes. They were unopened. They didn't need to be. Marked on the side of each was the name of an infant, unknown to any of the current occupants of the house and the date obviously of its demise. The parents had apparently been so sad at the loss, they buried the clothes in the basement to seal away any unhappy memories.

'Should we open the boxes?'

'Don't know. Judging by the date, if there are clothes inside, they will not be useful today.'

'Are there relatives of the two people who lived here before Eric secured this house for us?'

'We will have to check with him. Do you want to ask him or should I or perhaps your mother?'

'I will Dad. Let him do the checking. He knows the broker who handled the sale. I am sure they will be a treasure for someone.'

Father and son sat together in the easy chairs, talking. Cilla crawled into Jacob's lap and nestled her head against his shoulder. She was soon asleep. There was a surreal ambience about the time shared. No light penetrated the room. It was almost as if they were below again having one of their early morning chats. Jacob knew that when he went back upstairs to get ready for work, he felt refreshed.


	15. Chapter 15

'The subpoena finally arrived. I should have known it was coming. They want me in later today.'

'Looks like the DA hopes to find something that would give Patrick a motive. He sees you as a possible love interest and a motive for him to kill his wife.'

'Oh what nonsense! He doesn't seem to be thinking clearly on this issue.'

'I guess if your boss is charged with murder it's hard to keep a clear head. Sherman has to find something to explain the murder.'

'You know Jacob, my boss tried to kill me. He was totally responsible for the kidnapping which endangered my life and yours.'

'I didn't know. Did you just remember what happened?'

'Yes. Joe was injured… and in the hospital. He was working on a fraud case and asked me to take over. John was helpful but cautious. When I got too close to the answers which would implicate him, he trapped me in an elevator. I couldn't believe that he was betraying me.'

'Mama , are you worried about today? Do you want me to arrange someone to be with you?'

'I am fine honey. Memories sometimes pop up. I never know what will trigger them. Listen, I'll take Rob or Carl with me. Discovery is just a question and answer process. I only need to tell the truth. Anyway I have nothing to hide.'

'I think you will be fine Mama. Truth is always best. Whatever you say won't alter the overall situation.'

'Is Patrick still refusing to talk?'

'Yes he is. I tried to speak with him this morning and he remains adamant. The DA is determined to set a trial date for next week. We are running out of time.'

'He's running out of time.'

Catherine ended the call and turned to look at the subpoena from the DA. She was summoned to appear and give evidence in the matter of Patrick Ronan DelCassian. The piece of paper rattled slightly in her hand. She was not nervous about going in. The formality of the words brought back memories, many painful. She was tempted to call Vincent from the backyard where he was busy with the girls but he would only worry. Nerves weakened her. She desperately needed to get herself in check. Catherine was determined to be strong but she had no wish to do anything which would harm her friend.

Turning towards her closet, she pulled out a single button pant suit in a lovely rust colour. Black would have been more appropriate and yet she refused to look mournful. As she stared the slightly muted shade she felt a surge of inner power and fearlessness, much as she would have done in her active years at the DA's office. When she was fully dressed, she called out to Vincent. He came in immediately.

'I'm ready to leave now. Rob is coming with me.'

Hands on her shoulders, he looked deep into her eyes. 'Are you sure you are ready for this?'

'I knew it was coming. I feel ready.'

'I have never known you not to be ready. Does Jacob know?'

'Yes we spoke on the phone. He is just as much of a cheerleader as you are.'

Vincent hugged his wife and escorted her to the front door. Rob stood outside waiting. He came forward as soon as the front door opened.

'Should I call if there is a problem?'

'No need to call. Drive carefully.'

Indeed, Rob would never have to call Vincent, if Catherine was in trouble.

* * *

'Mrs. Wells, thank you for coming in today.'

'Under a subpoena, I had no choice.' Catherine seated herself and wiped nervous hands on her pants suit legs. It was a bad childhood habit. The DA introduced his two assistants and the court reporter at the table then looked pointedly at Rob.

'Rob Clarke is my support. I need to have him present.'

'Are you a lawyer Mr. Clarke?'

'No I am sure Mrs. Wells is capable of being her own lawyer.'

Sherman raised his eyebrows but said nothing further. 'I will remind you Mrs. Wells that you will take an oath to tell the truth.'

'I would have done so in any case.'

The DA leaned over to whisper something in his assistant ear. She was a pretty young woman. Catherine thought she might have fulfilled some other role but beauty was not a deterrent to being a good lawyer. She just seemed to be dressed inappropriately. Catherine knew the DA mentioned the word 'hostile' in his aside. She took her oath and waited for the questions.

'Mrs. Wells, how long have you known the accused?'

'Since we were teenagers, well over forty years ago.'

'You attended the Governors Ball with your Son and his wife?'

'Yes. I went there with them. My husband joined me later.'

'Did you know that the Attorney General would be attending?'

'I was aware he may be there.'

'You didn't have any prior discussion with him about meeting at the Ball?'

'No.'

'When was the last time you spoke with Mr. DelCassian?'

'We spoke for about 30 minutes at the Ball.'

'I meant prior to the Ball.'

'Approximately 30 years.'

'Years?'

'I was in a coma for over 20 years. I had not seen Patrick for a few years before that time.'

'Why wasn't I informed of this?' The DA turned to his assistant. She looked flustered.

'Are you telling me that you were in a coma, like a vegetable, for over 20 years, then you recovered? This is unprecedented!'

'It is a rare event but not unheard of. There have been others like me.'

'How is it that you returned from the dead so to speak?'

Catherine cringed. She didn't have any clue as to how this man, who was so offensive personally, could have been elected to his post. She did not hesitate in her answer.

'Love…I was pulled back_, 'from the dead_' through the power of love, for my husband and my child.'

'Nice sentiment. Does that mean you had no relationship with Mr. DelCassian?'

'Yes. I had no relationship with him.'

Sherman frowned.

'Do you have any idea of the time, when he came to speak with you?'

'It's easy enough to check the time against the program. I wasn't wearing a watch. He came to speak to me after my Son's dance with his wife but before the second name draw. He left just before the Governor spoke. My husband then joined me for the balance of the time I was there.'

'Did you speak with his wife at all.'

'Only at the beginning of the evening, when I was introduced to her in the receiving line.'

'Did Mr. DelCassian give you any indication that there was trouble between him and his wife?'

'After not seeing someone for so long, it would be hard to fit in so much information in a short conversation. He mentioned that she had gone home early with a migraine.'

'Thank you Mrs. Wells. I think that will be all today.'

Catherine extended her hand to Rob who quickly assisted her to rise. She gave a half smile but tried to keep any smugness from her face. Whoever was to do leg work on this case failed miserably. Her recovery from a 20 year coma was not a secret. The information was available with a minimal of effort. Heads would roll for the embarrassment. Catherine felt something awaken in her. Being caught flatfooted on an important issue is something she would never have allowed. Despite Rob's very firm arm, she felt quite light. If Jacob could find something, anything to explain the very puzzling actions of her friend, perhaps he could be saved.

* * *

Jacob sat in his office willing what energy he could towards his mother. He was not overly worried about her testimony. She could handle herself. He would have love to see the DA's face when he found out his mother was in a coma for years. It would kill the idea immediately that she and Patrick had a long standing relationship. Still, the DA needed a motive. He would come up with something else.

On the surface, Gabriella seemed like a perfect wife. Her position as the wife of a prominent man was marred only by her embarassing and blatant sexuality. Jacob's plan was to see if he could track her movements in New York. There were places where she must have gone on a regular basis, if only to get a hair do or buy clothes. He knew she travelled south often. . There was nothing in the articles the police removed from the house which gave a clue as to her activities. He decided to return to the apartment to do a little more digging.

Nothing had changed since his first visit. The place looked as sterile as it had done on his first visit. He went upstairs to her bedroom. The power of her energy lingered. He hated the feel of it. Her story was drawing him in. There, in her room, it was impossible to resist being pulled into the core of it. Giving up the idea of a search, he sat cross legged on the floor and allowed his astral self the freedom to explore. Semi-waking astral travel always proved more powerful.

* * *

Dear Arturo,

It has been a great sadness to me that we have not been in touch for so long but I deeply appreciate your letter. In my youth I am afraid that I was hasty and often inconsiderate. I certainly have paid dearly for my mistakes. It is a comfort to me that my son is here to care for me.

I am happy that you did benefit from the young stallion. He was a magnificent beast. I will accept your offer to return to the ranch. My health is failing…too much excess I think. That you have forgiven me, is a meaningful tribute to your kindness.

Regards,

Patrick

_Arturo read the letter again and again. As usual it was all about Patrick. At least, the painful episode had a happy ending for the one person who meant anything. Even though deeply cynical and jaded about Patrick's motives, Arturo could appreciate the irony of it all. From the day she opened her sparkling eyes and smiled at him, his whole life had been about Liebe. Arturo had many more things to do to secure her future. He had already formulated a short and long term plan. Success depended on many things. _

_There were other letters on his desk from the clinic in Paris where he would take his daughter. Liebe was told they would be travelling to Europe to sightsee and meet with other equestrians, perhaps purchase another horse and of course visit with his sister who lived in Italy. Those activities were on the agenda but Arturo had something else in mind for his delightful, unfeminine daughter. He cleared his desk and called her into the study._

'_Sit down Liebe. I want to talk a little about our trip.'_

'_I am very excited Papatio. I think I must be the luckiest girl in the world.'_

'_Mein kinder Liebe. I am the lucky one. You have brought a great deal of happiness to my life. I am proud of everything you have done this year. Are you sure you don't want to compete abroad?'_

'_No. I am happy to be a success here. Kinder is the only horse I can ride. She is like me, a part of me. I would rather keep her in pasture than take a chance and lose her because of the leg.'_

_Liebe was silent. After her last performance, Kinder came up lame. The vet said she had navicular syndrome. Further competitive riding would endanger her. A damaged leg would mean the end of the mare's life. Liebe chose not to ride instead._

'_Someday she may be fine to ride again. Let's wait and see.' Arturo also paused. He was happy for the interest which allowed his daughter to emerge from her beginnings to become an exceptional woman. 'Gabriella, I have to discuss something of importance with you.'_

'_Why are you calling me that. I don't like that name.'_

'_Hush child! It is your mother's name and was chosen for you to represent her memory. Listen, it is time to take on some responsibilities. I will not live forever.'_

'_You are not sick are you Papatio? If you are I will stop all work and look after you.'_

'_No Liebe. You know that each year I have taken you to Dr. Carcao. He has told you that there are things you have not experienced which are part of your natural cycles.'_

'_I don't want that crazy bleeding thing. I….'_

'_Gabriella stop. It's time for you to know the truth. You must become a woman or you will not find a husband or have children.' _

_Liebe hung her head. Her curly brown hair, rarely confined or cut neatly, fell forward over her face._

_Arturo knew that the discussion would bring tears. It always did. Liebe was not developing the way she should. They had waited and waited. Nothing was happening. Arturo knew better than anyone that this was not the way for a female to develop. Resources were limited in the south of Brazil. He had hesitated to go north to the Capital but at 18 years of age his daughter was not a full woman. The herbal mix he had given her had helped to develop some curves but nothing much changed. Her voice had deepened slightly. He didn't want her to become mannish. She needed the balance of hormones to establish her femininity. On the advice of his friend, he decided to visit the clinic in Paris instead. The trip would be part of a European tour. _

_Dr. Carcao had arranged for her to be seen by a top specialist. Arturo could not bring himself to do any type of surgery on her. He could only envision his daughter as a beautiful voluptuous woman with the right kind of men seeking her hand in marriage. Let someone else get her ready._

'_I wish my mother was here. She would understand me.' A rare pout was in place. _

'_Liebe, your mother was beautiful. She would certainly want you to be the best you could be.'_

'_Why did she leave me Papatio. She should have stayed and married my father.'_

'_Liebe, I am your father.'_

'_Yes I know Papatio but I mean my real father. Why did he leave after my mother died? Why didn't he stay and take care of me?'_

_Arturo was shocked. He had long ago given up any pretense of being an uncle. He thought Liebe understood that he was her natural father. 'I…. am your real father!'_

'_No. Everyone says you took care of me because you felt sorry for me when my mother died.'_

_Arturo rose from behind his desk and drew his daughter to him. She resisted his embrace at first. 'Mein kinder Liebe. It means my dear child. You are of my flesh. I thought you knew that.'_

'_Why didn't you call me your dear daughter if I am your flesh and blood?'_

_Arturo couldn't admit the truth of her question. He was surprised at her astute observation. It wasn't because she wasn't his daughter. It was because he wasn't sure if she were female. He couldn't tell her that growing up. His work had given him an advantage Marietta did not have. He saw that she was slightly abnormal. He had delivered enough babies in his early practice to anticipate a problem. Dr. Carcao had been adamant all along that Liebe was female and never wavered. Except for the lack of menses she gave every appearance of being a woman. She didn't inherit her mother's curvy body but then no one in Arturo's family had a body structure like that. His two siblings and both his parents were slim. He couldn't tell if the news was pleasing to her. She was clearly angry about the loss of her mother. _

_Liebe wrapped firm muscular arms around her father and hugged him tight. 'Now I know I am not alone,' she whispered into his shirt._

'_Oh my dearest daughter. I never knew you felt this way. Who told you I was not your father.'_

'_Avo. She said I was to call you Tio. Now I know you are my true Pai.'_

'_Liebe, you have all this family around you. They all love you. You were never alone.'_

'_Yes but no one would talk to me about my mother. I thought she died because she didn't like me.'_

_Arturo sighed. He did not want to be dishonest. A sliver of conscience awoke in him. Taking Liebe's hand he walked with her down the lane to the very spot where he first noticed Gabriella. Trying to make it seem like he was a knight in shining armour, finding the love of his life, was difficult. He kept the lies of their true relationship to a minimum. It hurt his heart that he needed to be false to his child but accepted blame._

_Liebe continued to be tearful but the story of her parent's 'love' touched her and she agreed to anything Arturo wanted. She would try to be more like a woman. The nuances of that escaped her entirely but the words made her true father happy._

* * *

_Preparations for their departure put everyone on the fazenda into high gear. Marietta packed what she hoped would be suitable clothes. With the help of her daughter Clara, who would also be going, she found some two piece outfits which Liebe tolerated. Marietta, her sons Jose and Dinarte and her daughter Conceicao would manage the ranch. In the eighteen years since Gabriella's death, the ranch had prospered. Arturo couldn't believe how strong Marietta had been, outperforming the lazy Rui within a year of taking over. _

_On the day before they left, pictures were taken. Marietta's favourite was a photo of her and Liebe, standing in the front yard._

_The journey took them first to Rio then a long flight to Italy. Arturo's sister lived in the Veneto region, the home of their mother. Silvia had married a prosperous Verona native who owned a very successful restaurant. There was no doubt that Silvia was delighted and surprised to have a visit from her brother. Although they wrote back and forth, he made it clear that Brazil was his home and he would never leave._

_Silvia kept any shock she felt to a minimum when Liebe was introduced but much later she and Arturo sat quietly on a balcony, catching up. She could not hold her tongue any longer._

'_Arturo, she is like a man. Are you sure she is a gir?.' His deep responsive sigh worried Silvia. In years gone by he would have bitten off her head._

'_I am sure. Physically, she looks like a girl. I would know Silvia. It seems to be a hormone problem.'_

'_Is that why you are going to Paris?'_

'_Yes she needs restorative surgery. I could not do it.'_

'_She will need to be taught to act like a female. She is a lovely person but quite a mix and range of emotions and actions.'_

'_I hope you will know someone who can do assist me. I want her to learn the social graces. She will be mistress of my home one day.'_

'_You say she is Marietta's granddaughter?'_

_There was no shame in the affirmative nod. _

'_So unlike you Arturo. I don't ever recall you chasing the servants for sex.'_

'_Her mother was different. After four wives, I had no children. In a moment of frustration I took her mother to bed and she got pregnant. I couldn't believe it.'_

_They fell silent, each deep in thought. 'You are different Arturo. More kindly. It seems she has changed you immensely.'_

'_She has indeed.'_

_The month passed quickly. Silvia and her husband Vincenzo were excellent hosts. Silvia's own children were not close by but there were enough young people in the area to show Liebe a good time. Her skill on a horse brought a great deal of admiration. In time father and daughter said their goodbyes and travelled to Paris. It was the end of a life for Liebe. The transition would take away much of who she was as a person._


	16. Chapter 16

_'Dr. DeCordoba, ow nice to zee you.'_

_'A pleasure to meet you too, Dr. Sevigny. No need to speak English. I am able to speak French quite fluently. My daughter also speaks French, Italian, and Portuguese of course. Please be careful when speaking around her.'_

_'My thanks. My English is barely adequate and my Portuguese even less so. Please have a seat.'_

_The French Surgeon wasted no time in getting to the point. 'I don't know how much information your local pediatrician provided to you but I have to say that I disagree with him. Your daughter was not born a woman. She has become one.'_

_'What! How do you know this?'_

_'Perhaps, it is because what was perceived to be ovaries in her pelvis, are in fact testicles.'_

_Arturo was dumbfounded. His jaw dropped and he stared uncomprehendingly at his colleague._

_'You know it is quite possible for the testicles not to descend during pregnancy. Most times they are found in the inguinal canal after birth. Surgery within the first year of life will correct the problem._

_It is another matter if the testicles remain in the abdomen. All fetus are undifferentiated at conception. Females are differentiated from males usually between the 6th and 12th week. If there is an unusual event, the testicles can become stuck there. It would seem that at some point, the development of your child as a male was altered. You are aware of course that when hormones are not released properly, the default gender is…..female. __With **his** testicles arrested in the abdomen and the hormone receptors unable to accept either the female or male hormones fully, **she** has developed partially as a woman. Calling her female, I think you have done mostly because of cultural biases about appearance, but she is in fact a male genotype. As to her behaviour and ability to function, she seems to be quite a combination of male and female.'_

_Arturo was devastated. As soon as he heard the words_ 'If there is an unusual event, the testicles can become stuck there', _he immediately saw the moment in which Gabriella had come to inform him of the pregnancy. Instead of being a man and accepting responsibility he abused her. The look of horror on her face haunted him. It was a large part of the reason he stayed away during the pregnancy. Shame held him back. No matter what he did for Liebe since the death of her mother, it could never erase the ugliness of that brutal moment. __Arturo would never know if that was the cause of this strange phenomenon in his child but from the day of her birth until this day he truly believed that she was a woman. The shock was overwhelming. Could he have known this before? It would seem that the 'gift' of Liebe came with this terrible proviso._

_Dr Sevigny saw his client's distress but was unable to determine the exact cause of his concern. He said nothing waiting, instead, for Arturo to respond._

_When at length he was able to pull himself together, Arturo looked at the doctor and said 'my child has been raised as a girl all these years. She believes herself to be a girl. How is it that she could also be a man?'_

_'You have told her she is a girl but she does not look or act completely like a girl. She has some male and some female characteristics but her genotype is xy and therefore, genetically, in her chromosomes, she is a male. Whether she believes it deep down inside is unknown to me and perhaps even to her. She only knows who she is at this moment in time based on the way you have raised her. Her condition is called Testicular Feminization. If you looked more carefully, you would see that she has a rudimentary micropenis with hypospadias rather than labia and a clitoris._

_Arturo was familiar with those terms. He had seen males with a condition where the urine tube comes out on the underside of the penis. Perhaps he had been afraid to look too closely. The life of a transgendered child was horrible._

_What then can you do for my daughter….my son….my daughter._

_I think it is better at this stage to maintain the persona that has already been created. We can provide better hormone support for her. We can do breast implants to create a more curvy feature. We can soften her face slightly and alter her voice. She developed a pouch for a vagina but does not have a uterus or ovaries and is therefore infertile. What she does have as a vagina can be stretched slightly to accommodate a more fulfilling sex life. Beyond that, we will have to wait and see how she responds emotionally, mentally and physically._

_Arturo leaned back in the chair. He had hoped beyond everything that she would need nothing more than a few physical alterations and some hormone support to stimulate sluggish ovaries but now he was finding that she had none, was genetically a male and fully sterile. He was beside himself. __The most difficult part for him at this time was to discuss this with his daughter. __What could he tell her about her gender accident? How would she react if she was told the truth? She had never liked the idea of the bleeding thing. Now she would never have to worry about it. His thoughts ran on. He knew one sure thing. She would remain a female. It was too late now to change her gender perception of herself. Where she needed to look female she did. All the other areas could, as Dr. Sevigny suggested, be enhanced._

_Arturo was at a loss for words. He wasn't sure what to say. Liebe was already in hospital for the testing procedures. Some surgery was already planned, and he thought it should go ahead. __'I need to speak with my daughter about the situation in a way she will understand. We will proceed with the surgery because there is no way she can now be a man.'_

_Dr. Sevigny, too, was at a loss for words. He nodded sympathetically and stood up to shake hands with the distraught father._

_Arturo made his way to the beautiful room temporarily occupied by his daughter. The French Chateau in which they were staying had been converted into a private clinic specializing in gender reassignment surgery. Arturo had done his research well. It wasn't that Dr. Carcao was incompetent. He worked with the information and equipment available. In the south of Brazil, there wasn't much. France offered the best opportunity to get a professional, expert opinion in an environment which was non judgmental and private. As he made his way down the hall, the beauty of the surroundings reassured him. 'Surely Liebe would be happy in such a wonderful place,' he thought wistfully._

_There was no smile on her face when he opened the door._

_'Where have you been Papa? I don't like this place. Why are they doing all these things to me. They are touching me in bad places.'_

_Arturo was happy to know that Liebe was still innocent. She had shown no desire for a sex life and there was no object of her affections. If only she could maintain this innocence forever. He would change nothing if it would keep her a child at heart. He sat heavily in a corner chair._

_'I have been speaking with your Doctor. You know that we had some concerns. He was explaining to me what he can do to help you.'_

_Liebe sat cross legged on her bed. She raised bright eyes to her father. Her look was expectant. Arturo asked Clara to leave the room while he talked with his daughter._

_'Liebe, I have some bad news from the doctor.'_

_'About you Papa?'_

_'No mein Liebe, about you. There is something in your belly which should not be there. He thinks it is best if it is removed. It prevents you from being a woman.'_

_'How can something stop me from being a woman. Am I not one already?'_

_'You are dear child, but not completely. Wouldn't you like to look more ….look at your Aunt Clara. She is fully a woman.'_

_'No Papa. I look like you and I am happy.'_

_'You don't look like me Liebe. You have some parts of me, which you inherited, but you are a woman and you will need to help things along. I hope you will trust me on this.' The tone was firm and Liebe knew better than to argue. _

* * *

Jacob brought himself back to the present. He needed the mundane level of being to digest everything he had seen and heard. Bits and pieces of information filtered through from other resources. Although the astral travel gave him an advantage, the knowledge gained would have to correlate with other input from his investigation. Jacob knew that whatever Arturo had been told years ago may not be true today. Access to the most up to date health care could have created a different outcome for someone like Gabriella in this modern world. Jacob kept that information in mind as he thought of the choices that were made. Gabriella was in her early forties at her death. When Arturo sat in front of Dr. Sevigny, she had been eighteen years old. Medicine was moving at such a rapid pace. Jacob had a feeling that things would be quite different.

Jacob also reviewed the features of Gabriella DelCassian. She appeared to be a beautiful woman when she stood in line. It would be hard to convince anyone who saw her there, that she was to have been born a man. Her look had been stunning marred only by the frank sensuality of her being. He pulled out a note book and wrote down some information. He wanted to google information about her condition but hesitated to introduce phone and internet microwaves into the environment in her bedroom. He had no idea if it would make a difference to the information which came to him but he was taking no chances.

What he did before re-entering his astral state was to ask for Gabriella's view. The change was her story. Arturo had already redeemed himself.

* * *

_There was something in his tone which stopped Liebe from talking any further. If she was sick and needed surgery, she would trust that her father, who was a doctor, would know best. She refused to contemplate what it would mean to be a woman but she vaguely heard her father say she would never have any bleeding. The monthly blood seemed like a terrible thing for women. Clara suffered all the time._

_She listened carefully to her fathers words. The surgery was to be done the following day. He promised to be there throughout._

_A day later, in a post operative and drugged state, Gabriella tried to turn in bed but her body ached from head to foot. She thought Kinder was close by. She could feel her mane tickling her face. She tried to mumble something but her lips refused to move. She thought a voice whispered something in her ear but everything faded to darkness. Next time consciousness came to her a blinding headache rocked the right side of her head. She had headaches before but this was worse than any she experienced. She cried out in pain. The same soft voice was followed by a return to the darkness. Hours later she called out._

_'Clara, Tia, where are you?'_

_'Clara is not here Gabrielle. My name is Marie.'_

_'Marie…..'_

_'Clara has a bad cold. She is staying home for a few days.'_

_Gabrielle tried to move and failed miserably. She still ached from head to foot. In all her years of riding she never felt a pain so sharp in her bottom. Her chest ached. Her hands were not tied but she felt such pain in her shoulder she could not move. Thanks to intravenous drugs, her moaning soon ceased._

_By day two after the surgery, Gabrielle felt much better and could move with a little effort. She had often heard her father's voice in the distance. She was happy for his presence. When she was finally able to move, he stayed and helped her get to her feet and take a few easy steps. Her eyes, which had minor surgery at the edges, were covered. The bandages would come off today. She was able to see for the first time in days. Her long lashes were still in place. She didn't look much different. The slightest effort brought fatigue and she quickly returned to bed._

_Gabrielle soon came to realize that Marie with the soft voice was her night nurse. She looked forward to seeing her. The dulcet tones had been very calming when Gabrielle felt scared._

_'Gabrielle, you are awake and seeing.'_

_'I like the way you say my name. It's beautiful. My grandmother and great grandmother were called Marie like you. Except' she added, 'my grandmother was called Marietta...meaning little Marie.'_

_'Was she French too?' _

_'No Spanish. My great-grandmother came from Uruguay to marry a Brazilian Gaucho.'_

_'And your mother?'_

_'Avo told me that when she was pregnant, she saw the angel Gabriel in a dream. He told her she would give birth to a girl who would be famous. So she named my mother Gabriella.'_

_'Did your mother become famous?'_

_'No she sacrificed her life for mine. When I was inside her, she gave all her food to me and saved none for herself. She died when I was born.'_

_'I am so sorry Gabrielle. That is a sad story.'_

_'No…. don't be sad. My father says she was very brave.'_

_Gabrielle was surprised at how easily she could talk with Marie. Clara was not interested in anything except clothes. She probably had a convenient upset stomach so she could shop in Paris. Marie was a wonderful companion during the evenings and night. In the day, her father was there supervising her recovery._

_The time passed quickly. Nothing was removed all at once. It was as if Dr. Sevigny knew that the shock of change would be too much. Gabrielle also suffered from headaches which seemed to have worsened since the surgery._

_'Liebe why didn't you tell me about these headaches?', Arturo inquired. His face was already lined with worry._

_'Back home, when I went to a quiet place they would go away. Sometimes I was sick to my stomach, but after I felt alright and then I would ride Kinder to feel better.'_

_'It sounds like you are having migraines. When did they start?'_

_'A couple of years ago.'_

_'I think you may be reacting to the hormones. I will speak to the doctor about adjusting it.'_

_Gabrielle continued to improve. She suffered a few more headaches before her final days but a medication soon took care of the pain. Her big day to reveal the final body image was fast approaching. Gabrielle was tentative. She refused to show any emotion leading up to the moment when the final bandages would be removed. She did confide to her new friend that the change was not something she was looking forward to._

_On the day when Gabrielle observed her body fully for the first time, she screamed and burst into tears. 'Oh my God! What am I?'_

_She chased away all the people who were around her and locked herself in a bathroom. She shouted out to everyone 'go away and leave me alone'._

_Gabrielle sat on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sat naked hardly daring to look at the breasts which felt like two time bombs sticking out from her chest. Of all the changes, this was the worst. The small scar on her abdomen had healed nicely. She could stand the changes in her face but the shape was not her at all. She sobbed for hours, before pulling down the shower curtain and wrapping her body. She crawled into the tub and fell asleep._

_It was the soft voice of her friend who finally encouraged her to leave the self imposed prison._

_'My friend, Gabrielle, please come out. Let's talk a little. I am so lonely without your funny stories to help pass the evening.'_

_Gabrielle sobbed into the crack of the door. 'Is anyone else there?'_

_'No, I am alone.'_

_Gabrielle tentatively opened the door. Marie was indeed alone. She fell into the arms of her nurse and continued to sob._

_'Tell me my friend….why are you crying?'_

_'I don't know me any more. I look funny.'_

_'You don't Liebe. Your father tells me he calls you that. Can I call you Liebe? It is so pretty.'_

_Marie continued to use soothing words until Gabrielle settled. She helped her newly revealed patient into a pair of pajamas and settled her into bed._

_It was days before Gabrielle settled. She confided that she could never accept this new body but kept the information from anyone else. When Clara was well enough to come back, she commented on the new appearance and was told to shut up. It was a very uncharacteristic response from her usually easy going niece._

* * *

_On her final day, Gabrielle asked Marie to come in before her discharge. She was going to miss the smiling face and soft voice. The young nurse had a day off but took time to visit her patient._

_'Gabrielle, I will be sorry to see you go. You have been such fun. I want you to know that I wish you well.'_

_'Marie, I hope this is not the end of our friendship. I will be here in France for another month. I hope to see you again. Maybe you can come and visit us in Brazil.' Gabrielle was aware of an eagerness in her voice. She felt she found a true friend._

_'Thank you, Cherie. I would certainly love to come and visit but my husband is returning from sea next week. He will only be home for a few weeks before he goes back again. He works on a cruise ship. He loves the sea and so do I but it doesn't love me. I have to stay home.'_

_Gabrielle felt frozen. She had no idea why. She did know why the knowledge of Marie's marriage came as a shock to her. She should have been happy for her friend. In fact she felt betrayed. Something in her had been awakened briefly, then died. She was barely able to hide her disappointment._

_'So be it. I shall miss you.' Her response had been formal and said in Portguese. She cared little if she was understood. She extended her hand in thanks for the care she had received and made her way to the front of the clinic facility where her father and Aunt waited to take her home_.

T_he next month saw a huge change in Gabriella. She said little. Her father assessed her behaviour as post operative blues. It was quite common especially for women. He had seen enough of it in his years of working with women. His daughter did not agree. She did not like her new body and she missed Marie. She refused to attend the clinic for her follow up visits. Dr. Sevigny kindly came to the hotel to visit and pronounced her quite beautiful. Except for a little lopsidedness when she smiled, all the surgery had been perfect. Arturo explained that she had spent so many years calling horses with a one-sided click, it seemed that the muscles were stronger there. To Gabriella, the return journey felt more like a death than a new life._


	17. Chapter 17

_Liebe, Arturo and Clara returned to Brazil. Each had their own experience to contemplate on the long journey home. Arturo read through the papers and notes from Dr. Sevigny. He had concerns about Liebe's surgery but said little. He was still disturbed by the news of Liebe's gender confusion and what it would mean to her. Clara, who experienced the thrill of a lifetime, slept through most of the flight, excited by the possibility of wearing her new clothes._

_Liebe stared out the window. She felt empty, as if her whole world turned upside down. Asked to explain her feelings, she could not find the words. During her first days home she remained withdrawn. Everyone seemed happy to see the change in her physical appearance. Only Marietta frowned, unable to understand why she felt the loss of her child. In fact, Liebe was no longer outgoing and fun. Further, she insisted on being called Gabriella. She wore her birth name like a mantle of sorrow feeling it draw her closer to her mother._

_She was only happy back among the animals. On her return, the veterinarian had given her good news, She could begin riding Kinder again. The pronouncement that some pleasure riding would be fine, encouraged Gabriella to perk up and resume some of her usual activities._

_At the Fazenda, Arturo was preparing to welcome back his old friend Patrick. There had been such animosity between them for years. Patrick was reeling from the effects of his degenerate lifestyle. He thought a few weeks on the ranch might help to restore his spirit. His son Ronan would be joining him. The journey south from New York was long and the elderly man was unable to travel alone._

_Despite some initial awkwardness between them, the old friends soon found their rhythm as friends. Patrick was much changed. He had been thrilled to know that Arturo had a daughter. Gabriella was welcoming and polite to the elder man but she had her own issues and left the seniors to talk. She had almost no contact with Ronan, who seemed aloof and frequently had his nose in a book. There was some familiar quality about him but she couldn't define it and didn't ask if he had ever been to the ranch before._

_She had been told that Ronan was quiet and unassuming despite having made a name for himself as a brilliant young lawyer. Her father told her that Ronan restored the prestige of his father's law firm through honest and consistent practices. It was clear that he really had no wish to take an extended vacation with his father. After years of conflict, they had finally come to a peaceful truce when Patrick stopped drinking._

_Ronan admitted over dinner one night that the Fazenda was beautiful. There were many areas to walk and relax. The air was clean and fresh, the vegetation lush. He kept to himself in an effort to allow his father to re-establish his relationship with the host. His general attitude showed that he had no interest in making friends.

* * *

_

_After a week of aloneness, Ronan began to feel the effects. Sometimes human company had its benefits. He headed toward the paddock early one morning to watch the horse training and exercising. He had seen Arturo's daughter. She was polite when they met but said little. e realized she was quite young but did not seem happy at all. Sitting on a horse, she seemed to be another person. He stood with arms on the fence and watched her put the horses through their paces. She was magnificent!_

_For the next few days he went down every morning to see her workout. Her calm quiet patience with the animals was remarkable for someone so youthful. He didn't invite her but she came to the fence curious about his interest in horses._

_Ola Senor Ronan. You like to ride?'_

_'Thanks, no Gabriella. I can't ride. It is a pleasure to watch you. You sit astride a horse as if you are one with it.'_

_Gabriella loved the compliment. 'Listen, I can teach you how to ride.'_

_'I know how. My back has a rod in it that won't allow me to sit on a horse.'_

_Gabriella dismounted and joined Ronan at the fence. 'A rod will only make you sit up straight. Did you fall and hurt it?'_

_'No I was in a car accident 18 years ago. It took me almost three years to learn to walk again. I can't take any chances.'_

_'I was born 18 years ago, the night the Arabian died.'_

_Ronan stared at her. 'That's the night I had the accident. My father was here in Brazil but in the hospital because he fell off a horse.'_

_Gabriella laughed. 'That was a big story here. Your father sent me Kinder's Sire. The Arabian he was riding was my father's prize horse.'_

_Since Gabriella was not aware of the nuances of that time, she could talk freely and happily, as if the event was nothing more than a misunderstanding between friends. In time she and Ronan became morning companions. To Gabriella, his calm and reassuring manner was a lot like her friend Marie. After her ride and exercise she and Ronan would walk down the lanes talking about everything Brazilian and New York. She felt safe with Ronan. He never crossed the line or made any off colour remarks._

_Before her surgery, Gabriella could join any of the men on the ranch. No one would touch her. She was the daughter of the boss. Neither did any of the men harass or tease her. After her return, they had been relentless, ogling her and making lewd comments. To say she was surprised would have been and understatement._

_Part of her changing nature had to do with the way she was treated. It was as if breasts turned her into a bitch in heat, sending out a scent for all dogs in the neighbourhood. Ronan was different. He liked to talk. She found an easy comfort with him. As hard as she tried, it was impossible to figure out why he seemed so familiar to her. When she confided as much to Marietta, the old lady breathed a sigh of relief. Dinarte had been sent away in anticipation of his biological father's visit. Marietta wanted no part of any claims from Patrick Sr. Her son was doing fine without him and she intended to keep it that way._

_Each day passed in breathless anticipation of the next one. Nothing marred the blue skies except the call of God. When Ronan went in to wake his father for breakfast, he found him quite dead. His heart had stopped in the night just a day before their departure back to the US._

_Ronan confided to his new friend that his father's death generated mixed feelings. It seemed like the Fazenda had been a place of bad luck for his father and yet he had expressed a desire to enjoy the sights and sounds once again, almost as if he knew death was waiting for him there. In a moment of selfless decision making, Ronan realized that his father wanted to die in Brazil and no doubt be buried there. Arturo pointed out a spot which would be ideal for the ashes. In a short but meaningful service, Ronan buried his father's ashes and took his Father's name._

_Through it all, Gabriella felt desperately sorry for her friend. He didn't seem to need comfort but she watched him carefully. The morning she found him sobbing at the grave of his father, she held him close, rocking him in her arms. She gave her affection and warmth freely. There was no sexual undertone. She also felt no spark the way she had done in Paris, but she did feel generosity and the power to bring comfort to another human being._

_On the day Ronan was leaving Brazil he spent a few hours alone with Gabriella before his departure._

_'You have been a rock, a strength to me during this sad time. I did not feel so alone and still do not as I return home. Your friendship is a gift I will treasure. If you ever wish to come and see me in New York, please do. You will be most welcome.'_

_'Will you ever come back to Brazil?'_

_'If you wish me to, I will.'_

_Ronan never knew what prompted his attraction to Gabriella. She didn't seem to need or want deep love or affection. Respect and friendship was all he had to offer. She seemed happy with that. A year later, after corresponding with each other and making those so important return visits, Ronan, now Patrick, asked Gabriella to marry him. They had an understanding. The marriage was about mutual love between two people who were friends. Patrick had confided that he could never be a lover but wished to have a companion. Gabriella did not want to be anyone's lover, and could never have children but she could be a good partner. If she could be free to travel back and forth to be with her father and Avo from time to time, she would love to live in New York._

* * *

Jacob ended his session quickly. Patrick was still alive. He didn't want to intrude on the intimacy of his life with Gabriella. He hoped that with a little more digging he could gather enough information to enable Patrick to talk freely about the events of the night.

As usual he was surprised at how little time had passed since he first sat down at the foot of the bed. As he stood up and brushed off his suit he remembered the four suits he had seen in the closet. Something made him go back to the door and open it. He felt each one and pressed his nose against the fabric. What he was doing felt strange and unlike him. Only one suit had an odour. The others were recently cleaned. He could tell right away that the suit with a scent had its own story. He separated the others and stood in front of the it. He placed his hands on the shoulders.

Gabriella came to mind quickly followed by images. He wasn't looking at her. He was seeing what she was seeing while wearing the suit. This was another dimension to his perceptive skills. Psychometrics!

He turned so that his back was facing the suit. He took the sleeves and placed them over his shoulders. 'Where am I going?' A clear vision of a club of some sort entered his line of second sight. He took note of the name. Nothing else was important. Jacob knew what was happening but he didn't really understand all of it. The momentary information was enough. He let go and stepped out of the closet, closing the door quickly.

A plan was formulating in his mind. It was clear he would have to visit the place where Gabriella spent some of her time. He was unclear as to her motives for being there but he intended to find out. Looking around one last time, he went to the dresser and took the photo of Gabriella and her grandmother from the dresser and returned to the kitchen. It was obviously taken on the day she went to Paris. Even he did not realize then that it could be her. Jacob removed the photo and took a picture of it with his own camera, cropping it to exclude Marietta. He returned it to its rightful place and left the condo fired up with the possibility of solving the puzzling aspects of the case and perhaps even finding a motive, that would exclude his client as the perpetrator.

* * *

Jacob hurried to the school to meet with Cathy who was just about finished with her courses. He was so proud of her. The last few days had been very tough on her. She struggled with her assignments and thesis, refusing help from anyone. On the way, he had a phone call to make. Just before he entered the subway, he stopped and made his call to Eric, Joe Maxwell's assistant.

'Jacob how nice to hear from you. Are you in Albany?'

'No, I am still downstate working on this case against the AG.'

'Tough going huh?'

'Yes, he is still maintaining his refusal to talk.'

'Ok so if this isn't a social call, what can I do to help?'

'I'm sorry Eric. I wish it was just social but there are a couple of things. First of all, my Dad found two boxes behind a wall in the basement. They were filled with baby clothes and mementos which I think belonged to the previous owners. We wondered if the family was interested in having them or should we give them away?'

'You know something Jacob, they mentioned a memorial of some sort when the house was sold. The eldest daughter knew that she had a brother who died but her parents steadfastly refused to talk about it. She remembered his box of clothes being packed away but had no idea where they went. I can tell you, she will be happy to get it. There were photos of her as a little girl which disappeared along with the brother she loved. I'll call and let her know. That's amazing.' He paused to listen to Jacob's response then said, 'you said there was a couple of things?'

'I want to ask you a question Eric. It is personal but I need to understand something and I don't know who to ask.'

'I think I have an idea but go ahead.'

'Eric I know that you are Gay. I need to ask how you see yourself in relation to women and to men?'

'I don't have any gender issues Jacob. I am a man, I just need to express my love and my sexuality through a relationship with a man.'

'So you don't identify as a woman at all?'

'No. I know who I am but there are men who feel like women inside and they need to express themselves with men also. They don't see themselves as Gay. The lines are very blurred sometimes between what makes sense in a heterosexual world. Are you struggling Jacob?'

'No. It's just that this case is forcing me to look at the broad range of issues which humans bring to their lives. The misunderstandings are enormous. I am trying to preserve the rights of one person and I don't even know who she or he was.'

'It is complex but I know you will do the right thing.'

Jacob rang off with Eric's compliment ringing in his ears. 'Do the right thing' he has said. All the digging in the world would not bring back Gabriella DelCassian. Could he do justice to her life. In his uncertainty, Jacob was fearful of crossing a boundary, which Patrick clearly tried to protect. Did he do it for love or fear? Jacob hoped the answer would come from him in time. He wasn't sure how he would interview Patrick but he would tread carefully. In the meantime Cathy his own dear wife, whose energy penetrated everything else, waited.

Jacob was surprised to find Cathy already at the coffee shop when he entered the door. She wasn't sitting on one of the bar stools as he usually did. She was seated in a corner booth, head down. He felt her distress and steeled himself to provide comfort. Obviously something had happened. Her tear filled eyes tore at his heart. That his beloved should ever cry weakened him. He pulled her up and held her sobbing body in his arms. The coffee shop wasn't full but most of the patrons stared at them.

'Do you want to go or stay Sweetheart?'

'S..tay.'

'What is wrong Cathy? Are you ill?'

'No Jacob….I'm…just so ….happy.'

'Ok. I'm lost. You are happy but you're crying. Sit down Cathy.'

Jacob guided her back into the booth. He sat beside her, his arm and body effectively hiding her from onlookers.

'Tell me what's going on. This is an emotion I don't understand.'

'Yes you do. The day you saw your mother for the first time, you cried. You were happy but you cried.'

'I did.' Jacob fell silent. His wife's logic never failed to halt him. He waited for her to settle. When she was ready she raised her eyes to him and smiled. Her trembling lip was endearing.

'I got 100 percent on my presentation and an A+ on my thesis.'

Jacob drew her close. 'I am so proud of you my love. Everything you set out to do you have done. You are a remarkable woman.'

'Jacob I know you love me and I love you. Do you think my mother would have been proud of me too?'

'Without a doubt! I don't think I'm the best person to ask. I do know someone however who would be able to tell you definitively.'

Jacob gathered Cathy's belongings and left the restaurant. It had been a wonderful meeting place for them. With the end of her school year, their lives would change. He took one backward look as they walked out the door.

Cathy's tears were unstoppable. On the way home, a paraofficial observer on the subway train commented on her tears.

'She's fine. Really, she is happy today, he said trying to forestall any further comment.

'You sure buddy?'

The guy was so insistent that Jacob had to fix his interest with a stare before the burly looking security guard subsided. When he settled, Jacob commented that it is good to know people were observant enough to present a calm challenge to things which seem inappropriate.

Cathy stopped sobbing before they reached the house but the minute the door opened she called out 'Mom!' before running down the hall. There were just times when a woman's touch, or a mother's touch meant more.

Jacob thought better of trying to put in a word anywhere. He went into the kitchen area to look for his father. Vincent was out in the backyard.

'I heard Cathy crying. Is she alright?'

'Yes, she's happy. She did really well at school. I think it is just a reaction to the stress of these past few months. She put so much into her studies.'

'I am sure her mother would be very proud of her.'

'I think that's the crux of the tears. She is missing her mother today. Anyway she found mine.'

Jacob walked around admiring the work his father had done on the yard. It was meant to be a place of peace with places for the children to play. Jacob sat heavily on a stool. He updated his father on the news from Eric before falling into a silence.

'You are troubled Jacob?'

'I am learning things I never thought would be important. Everything seems… so cut and dried on the surface. We just don't know how others live and what's important in their lives. I always knew, from own experiences, how complex we are. I just didn't know how much. Now I am seeing another side of life and trying to make sense of it.'

'We don't always need to know what's happening. We just have to learn to accept that we are all different and try not to judge another's behaviour or beliefs unless it touches us personally. We are here to learn Jacob. Take these lessons to heart and let them guide you.'

Jacob nodded. His father always put things into perspective for him. He realized that the quality he loved in his father was also present in his wife.

'Dad, I have to do something tonight which troubles me. I don't think I will be unsafe but I am determined to see it through.'

'Do you want me to be close by?'

Jacob nodded. He didn't feel the situation would be dangerous but he did know that communities of like minded people, drawn together under any banner, were often protective of their own. Whether he would be accepted remained to be seen. He hoped for some kind of closure on Gabriella's life from a group who welcomed her in another persona. Perhaps he would find the ultimate clue to her death.


	18. Chapter 18

'You know Mom, I have always thought of myself as an independent woman. Suddenly, this past year I have been like a blubbering idiot. I cry a lot. It makes me feel weak.'

'Dear child, don't you know that love has not weakened you. It's just that you are allowing yourself to open up and be full of hope. This is all about faith, you know. You will find your strength in faith because it means that you now trust.'

'You mean I didn't trust myself or didn't trust someone else?'

'Probably a little of both! It is so hard to give our hearts to someone fully. It does leave the door open to be hurt.'

'I have to admit that I've been afraid of being hurt. I had some pretty big defenses up.'

'Oh Cathy, you are not so much different from you mother in the way you approach life. I do believe she was very courageous you know, in spite of what she was doing.'

'It's so hard to think of my mother as anything other than a weak woman who allowed men to take advantage of her.'

'I wish I could tell you that was not true of her, but it was, when I first knew her. After she left the tunnels the first time and came back, she found something inside of her that made her want to see you safe and warm with possibilities for a better life than she had.'

'Did she really dream of better things for me and her?'

'Yes. More than anything she wanted you to become everything she was not. Having a home with the warmth and comfort of family and friends was her goal. She wanted to be on the inside looking out. Not the reverse. She was so wistful in her dreams of a better life.'

Something changed in her though. She went back to the streets. I wonder what happened?'

'You would have to ask Vincent.'

'I have been afraid of his memories of her. I know she loved him but now I see that he could never have loved her back. His heart belonged to only you. In part, his faithfulness to your memory drove her away. I am not sorry Mom. I just wish things could have been different for all of us.'

'Cathy, they are as they should be. Here you are graduating with a Master's degree, following an exciting career path and doing work you love. You are married and living on the inside looking out. She would be proud of her dreams, and your own, which you have fulfilled.'

'You make it sound so simple.'

'It is!'

Cathy had stopped sobbing and sat with her long legs under her. The girls were playing on the living room floor, stopping occasionally to share a toy or thought with their mother and aunt. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the room. Cathy never felt so at peace. She had chosen to take the most difficult road in her thesis. Originally, she intended to interview and write about the struggles of women on the streets, a topic she knew so well. She wanted to put their stories out in the public domain so people would understand. Instead, she got caught up in her own life and wondered how the children of prostitutes fared growing up. There were many stories, which clearly held the same promise of failure, but others, like her own, were inspirational. She contrasted the differences and highlighted the areas where she felt a small change might make a difference. Her work was thorough. The teacher, who had never given a perfect score for content, analysis, and presentation, was moved to tears.

Cathy was deeply grateful for the loving support of her husband but considered herself so lucky to have the love of the one person who made it possible for Lena to change the course of her life. As she stared at her Godmother, namesake and mother-in-law she was moved to embrace her from the heart.

'Thank you. I will never be able to thank you enough for being who you are in my life,' she whispered.

Vincent was struck by the tableau of his wife and daughter in law sitting together with the setting sun highlighting their hair and faces. He hated to interrupt. Jacob was stepping into something he considered unsafe. As a caring father he wanted to be close enough to support Jacob if the events didn't go well.

'Catherine, Jacob and I are going below for a couple of hours. Are you alright?'

'We are fine Vincent. Is there a problem below?'

'No, we just want to work on a small project.'

Vincent knew he wasn't being truthful. Catherine would see through him in a heartbeat. He decided to take his chances with her later. In the meantime, he could hear Jacob's footsteps approaching down the hall.

* * *

Jacob and Vincent waved goodbye to the women. They had all enjoyed a pleasant dinner together earlier but father and son were going out since it was clear that Catherine and Cathy were still engrossed in a conversation about Lena. Jacob knew his wife would be safe and happy. He felt lucky that his mother and wife were the best of friends. Many of his co workers complained endlessly about their mothers-in-law. He had a very loving home.

This night he had other business to attend to. The question of Gabriella's excursions into the village to spend time in a night club, needed investigation. The club had not been listed in any directory. The address was shared between those in the know. It's name _Trans-it!_ was highly suggestive of the type of clientele who would utilize the establishment. Jacob was able to find it listed under other headings. He tried to dress casually, hopeful of striking a pose which would not be suspicious. His golden hair, curly when left to the wind fanned out around his face. He never needed to shave much but his face was clean. He was wearing a fitted shirt and not too tight pants. He had no idea what to expect but hoped that he could play things by ear. This would be a new and challenging experience for him.

Father and son walked below. It was easier to make their way to a spot under the Village using the tunnel system. When they were able to stand side by side, Vincent broached the subject of the AG's trial. He wanted to sound supportive of for his son's work as well as understand the painful memories invoked in Catherine. To his surprise, Jacob seemed inclined to talk. Perhaps the safety of the tunnel helped to ensure confidentiality but he seemed to unload his strange quest to find the answers

'I knew you had this gift Jacob. It doesn't help you in your work though, does it?'

'No Dad, because the evidence has to be real and concrete. It only helps me to locate a certain line of thought or action. I never expected it to become a part of my work, but this time it has led me to get a clearer picture of the life of Gabriella. The way in which she evolved was tied into a cellular accident at the time of her conception. Who knows what life she might have had if one gene had shifted, or one cell moved another way. How fragile we are!'

'I am pretty sure I could have sympathized with her. My own genes, as you told me on our trip from California, were altered by one simple event.'

'I had forgotten about that.'

Father and son halted and Vincent, who led the way turned to look at his son.

'There were times when I questioned if I was human or not. It was your mother who showed me otherwise. That poor woman or man did not have anyone who could point her in the right direction.'

'I don't know if that's true up to this point Dad. Things may change after tonight when I see what interactions she had at this club. I appreciate that you reminded me about your own struggles.'

The two men carried on, taking almost an hour to reach their destination. They found an outlet to the road above. Vincent waited below, finding a rock to sit on while Jacob made his way to the surface.

It opened into a back alley. He dusted off his clothes and turned the corner, looking for the neon sign which had shown in his vision. It was much smaller than he had imagined. A burly guard at the door halted him.

'Who sent you?'

Jacob thought the question was rather melodramatic. It sounded like a line out of a gangster movie. He was at a loss for words.

'Who sent you?'

'I just want to go in. A friend of mine comes here and suggested I might find it helpful to be here.'

'Friend's name?'

Surely Gabriella wouldn't come under her own name. He paused and tried to access his channels of information.

'Liebe' he said at last.

'Lieb? Description?'

'Tall slim guy with dark curly hair.' Jacob took out his cell phone and produced the photo of Liebe as a young girl.

'Ain't seen him in awhile. Are you meeting here?'

'No he just suggested this might be a place where I could find help.'

The guard grunted and opened the door. 'No weapons?'

'I have none.'

'The alarm will go off upstairs if you do.'

Jacob nodded and climbed the stairs. There was another door at the top. He knocked. It was opened by a woman, or someone who appeared to be a woman. Jacob was escorted into a room with a bar, several couches and people of all shapes, sizes, colours and genders.

Jacob looked around. People were talking above the music. It was smokey. Some couples were dancing in another corner. His keen eyesight allowed him to survey the area. In his mind he recreated the scene obtained from the suit. No faces stood out but it wasn't long before someone came towards him.

'First time? Who ya lookin for?'

'Lieb, Do you know him?'

'Yeah, he's not around but I'm here. Are you trans?'

'No, I'm happy as a guy now.'

Jacob didn't know the etiquette of conversation. He tried to keep his responses as truthful as possible. 'I really thought I would see Lieb tonight. He told me about this place.'

Jacob realized that he would have to strike up a conversation with the youth. He wasn't sure about gender and didn't want to ask. He opened an emotional door and allowed the person to talk. It appeared he was a he, but started out life as a she. The club was for transgender and intersex people who self identified as men regardless of their outward appearance. It was clear, after an hour, that many of the people had suffered extensively seeking to find an identity which met their needs.

The fact that the club was for men told Jacob that Gabriella was trying to fit her true gender identity with like minded people. She had no relationship with anyone there. It seemed just being in the comfort of a culture in which her real self was accepted helped her to fine peace of mind. Jacob had just about decided to leave when another person, seemingly female, to his untutored eyes, approached him.

'I hear you looking for Lieb?'

'Yeah but he's not here. I'm heading out.'

'Are you a cop?'

'Nope. I'm not.'

'Is Lieb in trouble? Look he's a really nice guy. I like him. Had a rough life but he's happy as he is.'

'How did you know? He seemed kind of troubled to me.' Jacob hoped his countenance was open and truthful.

'He came in here wearing a suit. Proud as anything! I know he passed as a woman outside but here he was himself. A nice guy…..loved that accent of his.'

'I liked him too. I was kind of hoping to have a relationship with her, but I was surprised when she told me the truth. She said '_come and see me in that place and you will know who I really am.'_

'You knew her outside? Was she a knockout?'

'Yeah, beautiful and sexy. I was hoping to see the guy. Maybe then I wouldn't kind of like her the same way, you know.'

Jacob didn't know what he was saying but the words tumbled out of his mouth anyway.

'Are you a guy?'

'Yeah, pretty sure about that now.'

'I kind of like guys too.'

Jacob knew he was in trouble. It was one thing to penetrate a club which had a special kind of clientele but another to interact with people under false pretenses. Whether it was an unmet standard in their lives, didn't matter to him. He was raised to respect each person's differences and knew that the young person in front of him saw an opportunity to engage in a flirtation. Jacob stepped back.

'I have to be honest. I really like girls. I was just checking if Lieb was really a man. I don't want to give you any ideas.'

He smiled gently to take any sting out of his rejection. It took just a few seconds for Jacob leave and rejoin his father.

'You better change those clothes before you get home. You smell like you have been in a bar. Did you get what you need?'

'And some…'

* * *

As soon as Jacob entered the jail cell which housed the AG, he knew that something had changed in Patrick. Jacob's own demeanour was confident and alert to any distress within the defeated prisoner. This early morning meeting was meant to open doors into the mind of a man accused of killing his wife. Jacob had established motive but he did not believe that the man sitting in front of him was capable of murder.

'I had dreams of you these past few nights. They made me aware that you have, in some unique way, found the key to my ….'

'I have not meant to invade the things which you hold dear. I have simply been looking for the truth.'

'There is no truth here. All that exists are the ashes of someone who lived and died.'

'Patrick, I hope you will trust me with her story. I want your perspective on who she was and who he was.'

'I won't even ask how you knew about that? You know, Gabriella is the one who invades my dreams. She tells me to have faith in you. Well, I already trusted you with me, but I wasn't sure if I trusted you with her.'

Patrick studied his finger nails with deep interest. Tears filled his eyes. Silence fell between the two men. Patrick felt Jacob's warmth and energy drawing him in. The pain and torment in his heart eased.

'You are your mother's son. She had a way of drawing the best from me, even when I resisted her. I wish I could have loved her but as I look at you and see how special you are I thank your father for loving her.'

'Patrick do you want to tell me your story or do you want me to interview you?'

'I think I will tell you my story and if you wish to clarify anything please let me know.

* * *

_Ronan's Story_

_In my life I have only ever loved two women. Your mother was the first and I thought she would be the last. The other was Mary, Mother of our Lord. Over the years, I devoted myself to things that were spiritual until my father returned from Brazil. He let his life fall apart. The things that were dear to me I set aside and dedicated myself to him and his law firm._

_I got rid of those people who took advantage of his weakness with alcohol and hired only those associates who were willing to work honestly and perform at their best level._

_Eventually my father recovered from his addiction and tried to make a better life for himself. The one thing which disturbed him greatly was the loss of his long time friendship with Arturo de Cordoba. He pushed me into taking him for one last visit. I promised that I would make the trip with him. He could stay if he wished and I would return with him when he was ready._

_It was my intention to take the time to recuperate and rest because I had worked so hard since leaving law school. I must admit that I did relax the first week. The one thing that drew me out of my reverie was the delightful Gabriella. _

_My father had an obsession with horses but I was passionate about them. After my accident, when I couldn't ride, the loss of it broke my heart almost as much as anything else. When I saw Gabriella astride a horse, I was moved to tears by her beauty. I felt something deep and profound for her. It wasn't like the love I felt for your mother or the Virgin. It was something beyond that. _

_We were not destined to be lovers, so it is hard to capture, in words, what I felt for her. We were soul mates in the true sense of the word._

_When she came to New York to visit with me, nothing had changed. I felt the same about her and my desire to be a confirmed bachelor went out the window. _

_I had a difficult time with this feeling because I knew I would never be able to be a true husband to her. To my delight there were things about her which were also different. She liked me and responded to me. We were able to talk about so many things, honestly and openly. I knew we could be friends. _

_She wanted to leave Brazil and I needed a friend. We agreed to have what used to be known as a Mariage Blanc. One person marries to save another from so many things. She saved me from speculation about my sexuality and I saved her from being forced to marry someone, from the Fazenda, who she would despise. Her father was aging but he wanted her to be happy and as long as she could travel back and forth it would be fine. _

_We bought a ranch in upstate New York, near the Capitol. I commuted to work and she set up a riding school. She was universally loved by everyone. In those days she didn't need to dress up like a painted doll. She could be herself and embrace the best of her skills._

_We were quite happy and when I moved into civil service she was content to stay on the ranch and teach riding. I would be in Albany or New York and come home on weekends. We so enjoyed each others company. In the winter months she would travel south to spend time with her father and grandmother._

_At the millennium, there ws a big push locally for women to take care of those female things, you know, PAP tests and mammograms. Gabriella didn't feel that she needed them but she was forced to change her attitude when she became very sick. You know she suffered terribly with Migraines and they would make her very ill. Her father told her it was related to the hormones she was taking. She was very careful about using the minimum which was a drink from home. If she needed to go out looking very womanly she took the pills but hated them. It was tough to find the right balance. _

_When she fell ill, she couldn't travel. I had to take her to a doctor here. He didn't have any medical history and just decided to check her out completely to rule out any female complications. He assumed that she had a hysterectomy early on for some unknown problem. _

_He did internal tests, ultrasounds, and blood work. After he reviewed everything, he examined her and said _**'Mrs. DelCassian, I am not even sure you are a woman. You certainly don't have any female parts and never did.'**

_Gabriella was shocked. The doctor had to be mistaken. She left his office and came home crying. She knew that something had been wrong inside but to imagine herself not a woman was devastating. As soon as she was able she left on the next flight to Brazil. Her father was not helpful. He told her much the same story he had given her all those years and denied knowing where her surgical information papers were located. She did not want to disrespect him so she subsided and waited to come home. _

_She was hardly in the door before she said, 'Ronan, my father has lied to me. I can't believe anything he says. I am going to Paris to find the truth for myself. Will you come with me?'_


	19. Chapter 19

Patrick seemed to need a bit of time to collect himself. His reminiscing brought up powerful memories which had changed his life though not necessarily for the better. Jacob sat quietly, closing his mind to the present situation and thinking of other things. He reviewed the events of the previous night and wondered how much if anything he could share. Unwillingly a picture of Cathy came into his mind. As his father predicted, she was appalled at the smell on him.

'Cigarettes and cheap perfume? Where were you Jacob?' There was no anger in her voice, merely curiosity. After the talk with Catherine about trust, she knew that there was no one she trusted more than her husband.

'Really, I was doing research in the Village.'

'In a bar?'

'No I was in a night club which caters to transgender people. I thought I would check it out.'

'Ok now you're really getting silly. What on earth would you be doing with transgendered people. I think I will stick with the research story in a bar.'

Jacob chose not to pursue the need to be believed. It wasn't a reflection on him or his most understanding wife, but a further acknowledgement that people who were different couldn't be part of a mainstream. He knew Cathy would have understood if he shared the whole story but he was not inclined to divulge all the details of the case. He avoided contact with her and went to the bathroom instead. Jacob showered and showered hoping to get rid of the unwanted odours. He took so long that Cathy got fed up and joined him in the stall. It was a much better outcome than he hoped.

In his daydreaming, he allowed his thoughts to go beyond what was acceptable. When his mind came back to earth, Patrick was staring at him, head tilted to one side.

'I am sorry. I got sidetracked.'

'You look happy Jacob. At the dance I was quite struck by you and your wife. She's lovely. You make a delightful couple.'

'Thank you Sir. She makes me look good. Any time you are ready to resume…..'

* * *

_Ronan's Story_

_I took a short period of time from work to accompany her to Paris. She was very distressed and nervous. There was no consoling her. We went to the clinic where her original operation was performed but Dr. Sevigny was long since deceased. We were fortunate however to be able to consult with a new, younger man who believed in a patient's right to know. He got her medical files and reviewed everything with her. She cried for about 24 hours. I didn't understand a lot of what he said. My French is limited but I knew that she had been born with testicles in her abdomen which were removed surgically. Apparently they can become cancerous if left inside._

_Dr. Sevigny had done some facial and throat surgery, breast implants, and re-fashioning of her female genitals to make the area more feminine. She was covered with bandages from head to foot. Apparently her post operative period was quite challenging for the staff. She was not happy with the outcome at the time._

_I had never heard the whole story even though it was just months after all this happened when I first met her. She didn't discuss it with me then. But after the trip to Paris I knew why she had been feeling so raw and vulnerable. The complete female fit was still new to her. There was always something about her which never felt comfortable in the traditional female role. Whenever we went anywhere and she was required to be ultra feminine, it took her days of time and effort to look the part._

_The truth is that while we were in Paris it was the first time she decided to try on a new persona. At least it was new to me but in fact had been subsumed after her surgery. There was a nurse there, Marie was her name. She was one of two staff who remembered Gabriella. They obviously had a special relationship between them. I would not have thought so at first. Gabriella seemed cool towards her but after hearing the truth of her surgery, Marie reached out to offer comfort and my wife responded. I understand it was very similar to their original relationship._

_Whatever Marie understood about my wife, Gabriella seemed unable to traverse the great divide of anguish without her help. It was clear to me that she understood my wife's suffering with a knowledge I could never hope to match. I stayed one week. Emotionally, Gabriella was not able to return with me. She needed more time. I left her in Paris under the care of Marie. There was a measure of trust and I felt confident that my wife would be safe. _

_Before I left Gabriella had cut her hair and was clearly taking steps to see herself as a man. I was her husband. This was impossibly painful for me. Even if our marriage was not sexual I believed at least I was married to a woman. My love never wavered but my resolve did. Leaving was the right thing to do anyway. Gabriella needed to be reborn. I was not to be her midwife._

_When she returned to me in New York, I arrived at the airport with some trepidation. To my surprise, she landed looking much as she did when we left. She wore a wig, dressed beautifully in a very feminine suit, had full make up. I thought for a moment that she found her true self and it was feminine but as soon as we got home, she made it clear to me that her feminine look would be a façade. From that day forward she would be as she was born…a man! It was what she was meant to be before the choice was taken away from her. In Paris, she realized that her comfort zone was among men as it had been in her early years in Brazil. Out of respect for me she wouldn't change our public life but she needed a private life in which I would have no part._

_It was up to me to make a decision about how I would live with that. Well, Jacob I am a devout Catholic. Gabriella was less so but we took our vows seriously. I believed I was married to a woman. We could not change her gender legally which would allow a annulment but we would have to try and find a compromise.

* * *

_

Patrick stood up again and paced the floor a little. He wasn't avoiding the issue. Jacob realized that the pain in his back was excruciating. He was sleeping on a bed which offered no protection for his spine. He was without his medication for pain and dealing with the loss of his wife and career. Jacob waited patiently. He had taken the day off work, informing Oats that he planned to get a full statement and would not be in the office until he did. Jacob didn't elaborate on his plan of action. Oats knew his defender would deliver. He raised no objections. Jacob had all the time in the world to bear witness to Patrick's confession. He hated to see look of pain on his face. Emotionally Patrick's journey was already arduous. Physically he didn't seem to be able to withstand much more.

'Can I help to ease some of the pain in your back?' Jacob asked tentatively.

Patrick leaned forward wiggling as if he were trying to move something off his shoulders. 'Do you have a miracle cure for aching muscles?'

'If you trust me for a moment, I can shift some energy.'

Patrick nodded. At that point he would have accepted anything. Jacob stood up and placed his hands together, saying his memorized entreaty to the Higher Power for guidance. He placed both hands on Patrick's back, one at the top of the spine, the other at the base.

He felt disconnected pathways, with energy unable to move from top to bottom. Jacob avoided asking for clarification of anything. He knew a certain touch would reveal everything to his inner source but he wanted to hear Patrick's story rather than access it. He did not receive, he did not give. He placed his hands in a position of trust and hoped that the nerves, so damaged years ago, would respond.

The heat drawn from his hands told Jacob a lot about the pain. He could feel the firing of energy from the fibers beginning to dance beneath his fingers.

'That feels hot. I haven't felt anything like that before in my back.'

'Try not to talk. Just allow your body to take what it needs.'

For several moments he continued to hold his hands steady. When there was a cooling Jacob released his hands.

'I don't know what you have done but I…'

'It's best to say nothing. If you feel better, let the sensation flow over you until you feel comfortable with it. When you're ready, we will resume.'

Patrick nodded, continuing to move his back and shoulders. A reprieve from the physical pain was soon evident.

* * *

'_I left Gabriella to find her own resources on the gender issue. My own personal feelings were put on hold. Even if she didn't look different at home, she was different. What little affection which had passed between us disappeared, not because I couldn't touch her but because…..she… or rather he didn't appeal to me. No matter how lovely she looked, dressing up for my social needs, she wasn't happy doing so. The biggest deterrent to maintaining the status quo was the need for hormones. It continued to generate the migraine headaches which left her weak and sore for days. If you look at any number of pictures of her in the past eight years, most of the time she had her hand at her throat. It was continually on fire, as she used to say. Vomiting was the only way to relieve the pressure in her head._

_We stopped talking about divorce for awhile but the subject came up again these past two years. She found a place in the village where he felt comfortable. There was a social aspect to it but he had opportunities for counseling and help integrating into a new lifestyle. I couldn't stop her. You see, my love for her increased each day as I saw her struggle with this terrible war for gender identity. No priniciples I hold dear would ever allow me to watch the soul destruction of someone I loved. At some level of my own heart, I knew that I did love her deeply and I could love him too, but not as my life partner._

_The Governor's ball was to be the last event of our marriage. She had put a lot of energy into one of the charity's benefiting from the donations. As usual, she started taking her extra hormones weeks before hand. She also took medications for the migraines. Gabriella looked spectacular that night. She was always a little over the top but as she said, her Italian aunt found a real sexy coach to tutor her. She hoped not to let me down and to enjoy the night. It was clear early on that she would not be able to avoid a headache. By dinner time she was struggling and begged me to leave. I couldn't. I walked her to the stairs exit, to avoid going through the ballroom. On the landing, we stopped to share a few words. She said, 'Ronan, I can't do this ever again. I love you but I must live a life true to me. This is just too much.'_

_I wanted to leave with her but I had obligations. I wanted to see your mother, speak with her and the Governor expected me to meet with some people. The truth is that I was very worried about Gabrielle and left shortly after speaking with Catherine regardless of my obligations. __I got home just before eleven. I went in and sat down on a chair in the dining room. I waited for her to come downstairs. She always did at precisely eleven, no matter how she felt. It was the time for her medicine. _

_When she failed to appear, I went upstairs and found her kneeling at the head of the bed. Her head was thrown back and resting on the wall. Her hand was at her throat pressing it hard. Her colour was awful. I called out to her but she didn't answer. My first instinct was to call 911 but she halted me. I went to the bed and she grabbed my hand, forcing me to apply some pressure to her neck. I did. She leaned forward on my hand and tried to take a deep breath. It was no use. I saw her struggle to inhale and she couldn't. She fell forward, dislodging my hand. Within seconds I realized that she was dead._

_I called 911 anyway because I had no idea what to do next. She didn't gasp. She didn't move, just lay there with that lopsided half smile of hers. _

_I told the police I killed her. She fell forward on my hand. How else would she have died? I strangled her life by marrying her when she was not really who she thought. I should have known. I took away her opportunity to find happiness. How could I have been so selfish?

* * *

_

Patrick went on and on for some time flagellating himself with recriminations. Jacob longed to soothe him but knew he couldn't.

'Patrick, we go to court in two days time. Are you ready? How will you plead?'

'I have told you over and over that I will plead guilty, if not to murder, then manslaughter. They will find a motive in her gender issues and I don't want this to become public. Sure. I want to protect myself but it was **her** personal issue, not mine to reveal. In life she didn't want to. If I plead not guilty, there will be a trial and I couldn't endure having her story become a media circus.'

Jacob waited and listened to all the reasons he put forward then spoke with authority. 'Patrick, I intend to get the charges dropped. You didn't kill her.'

Jacob left the jail cell feeling almost cheerful. He had one last issue to settle before he could take the evidence before a judge. He left Patrick with a surprised look on his face and a back which stopped aching for the first time in years. He went directly to his office to type up his notes and prepare his case.

* * *

Two days later, in the chambers of a district judge, three men sat together. Two were waiting to present evidence in the case of Patrick Ronan DelCassian, accused of first degree murder in the death of his wife. A court reporter sat in a corner taking notes. Despite the informality of the surroundings, it was a deadly serious meeting.

'Gentlemen, we call this meeting to order.'

'Your Honour, many thanks for agreeing to this meeting.'

'Let it be noted that I have agreed to hear your request in chambers not because your client is receiving special privileges but because he has a legal right to be heard under these circumstances. You may proceed counselor.'

'Your honour I would like to make a motion to dismiss the charges against my client.'

'I trust that you have evidence to support your claim?' Jacob nodded then spoke out knowing the court reported needed to record voices not actions.

'Mr. Benjamin, are you in agreement with the process?' An affirmative response from the District Attorney did not reassure Jacob for one moment.

'Let's proceed then. What do you have to say in this matter Mr. Wells?'

Jacob shuffled some papers on the small desk in front of him and swallowed hard before beginning the task of explaining the complex life of Patrick and Gabriella DelCassian.

'Your honour, Mrs. DelCassian was not murdered. I would like to bring your attention to the report from the coroner which clearly indicates that she died from a fractured thyroid cartilage. He did not indicate that the cause was strangulation. If you would take note, the fracture was externalized and not due to pressure from outside. There was no bruising around the neck and she showed no signs of asphyxia by pressure. She inhaled stomach contents.'

'How can you explain her condition then?'

'Several years ago the deceased had surgery on her neck to reduce the size of her thyroid cartilage, also know as the Adam's apple. The procedure is called thyroid shaving or chondrolaryngoplasty. At that time the procedure was quite new. It appears that the surgeon removed too much of the bone and weakened the structure.'

'Was that alone responsible for the weakness?'

'No sir, she also suffered from migraines for 20 years. Her migraines induced a reflexive vomiting. Over the years this put a strain on the esophagus and trachea. I have reports here from a surgeon who examined her in 2000 and indicated that she would be at risk if the migraines were not better controlled.'

'Risk of what, Mr. Wells?

'Tracheal collapse! Mrs. DelCassian had a migraine on the night of her death. Here is the report of drugs found in her system, and a list of prescriptions that she has taken over the years, indicating an ongoing problem.'

'With a weak neck bone how do we know that her husband didn't just find it easier to strangle her?'

'Lack of bruising Sir. In addition, Mr. DelCassian has a broken back. There is a rod inserted. His upper body strength is minimal. Here are the reports from his Orthopedic and Neurosurgeons indicating that his ability to overpower Mrs. DelCassian was minimal. In addition she was an accomplished equestrian, used to handling large and unruly horses. She was far stronger than her husband and could have overpowered him in a struggle. There was none indicated in the police report.'

'Is there a time lapse indicated?'

'Mr. DelCassian reports returning home just before 11 p.m. The coroner reports time of death between 11 and 11:15.'

'Do we have proof that Mrs. DelCassian was home prior to her husband?'

'Yes we have a signed statement from a witness who saw them leave separately. Mr DelCassian was with Catherine Wells, my mother, until after 10:30. They were seen by several people. The DA will have those statements.'

'Mr. Benjamin, can you shed light on this information?'

'Yes your honour, we can verify the time but I would like to remind young Mr. Wells that his client confessed to the crime.'

'My client made a statement in which he speculated that he had killed his wife. Mrs. DelCassian already had the fracture when he arrived home. He went to check on her when she did not follow her usual evening routine. She was applying pressure on her cricoid cartilage to prevent throwing up when he entered the room. She had him apply the pressure while she tried to take a breath but it was already too late. The minute she moved her head forward, her throat collapsed. There was a stain on the wall above the bed consistent with the posture she had adopted trying to hold her neck back so she could breathe. I have a letter here from a licensed Anesthetist who indicates this as the most appropriate action to take.'

'Mr. Benjamin, do we have a motive?'

Jacob held his breath too.

'We have had some indication that Mrs. DelCassian was not what she seemed.'

'Meaning?'

'We believe she may have tried to get some gender changing surgery.'

The judge looked puzzled and sought Jacob's eyes. 'Mr. Wells?'

Jacob didn't doubt for a moment that the DA would have found someone to search out any history which might compromise Patrick.

'Is this consistent with the surgery you spoke about?'

'I don't know Sir. The DA has not provided me with that information.'

'It seems that in the year 2000 Mrs. DelCassian was in Paris. She spent some time at a clinic known for its gender reassignment surgery.' The DA was beginning to look smug. Jacob hoped he would not have to detail Gabriella's history but clearly he had to look as if this was not a surprise, and it wasn't although the DA should have provided him with any information from the Discovery process. He proceeded slowly but confidently.

'Your honour, Mrs. DelCassian is one of several thousands of people world wide who are born with ambiguous genitalia. She has a male genotype but due to lack of hormone receptors she was unable to develop into a man. It is a condition which used to be called Testicular Feminization and is now known as Androgen Resistance Syndrome. She presented at birth as totally female except for a few things which were corrected when she was eighteen. Her return trip to the clinic was to discuss her current status. This is where she was informed about the weakness in her thyroid bone. Mrs. DelCassian was accompanied by her husband and returned to New York where she resumed her usual routine. With all due respect to my colleague, we would ask for discretion on the reporting of this issue.

'Mr. Benjamin, do you have anything further to contribute?'

The DA frowned. 'No your honour.'

'Mr. Wells?'

'No your honour.'

'Gentlemen, we are adjourned. If you would step outside, I will review the information. It may take some time. I will send for you when I have my decision. Leave a cell number with my secretary.'


	20. Chapter 20

Jacob returned to his office to await the decision of the judge. He hoped that the facts he had presented would hold him in good stead. If his client believed himself to be guilty it would be hard to prove otherwise.

Everyone in the department left him alone. He really didn't want to talk. In his mind he went over the information provided to the judge. Some of the details could tip the scales either way. He kept his body on an even keel, not realizing that in a heartbeat he could access the information. If he wanted to be a good lawyer, he had to work from the facts. Jacob smiled. Oats again!

Two hours later there was a loving message from Cathy. She couldn't wait for him to get home. More than anything Jacob wanted his evening to be one of happiness, not just for himself but also for Patrick and Gabriella. He felt her hovering close by. _'Stay with your husband'_ he whispered. _'He needs you more than I.'_

By the fourth hour, Jacob could sit no longer. He left the building and headed towards the jail. He worried about Patrick. Sharing a little time with him might ease the strain. Everything in Jacob screamed dismissal but he had no control over the ruling in the case. It rested with the Judge. Jacob knew nothing about him or his background. He supposed if he were more professionally astute he would have looked into the history of the Judge's previous decisions. His hand was ready to push open the door to the jail when his cell phone rang. The Judge was ready to give his verdict. Jacob was to return to the chambers immediately.

There was a further half hour wait for Mr. Benjamin. Not an unusual circumstance when waiting for the DA. At least the leather backed chairs were comfortable. The judge was not seated in the ante room of his chambers. Jacob had lots of time to survey the rows and rows of books which lined the walls. He rose politely when Benjamin arrived, quickly followed by the Judge.

'Gentlemen, please be seated. I have made a decision on your motion to dismiss the charges Mr. Wells. I do have a few words to say beforehand.'

Jacob nodded. The DA looked expectant. It was clear he thought the judge would want proceed to trial.

'Mr. Benjamin, I would like to address you first. Although I shouldn't have to, it is important for me to remind you that the burden of proof lies with the prosecution. The accused are just that, accused. In order for them to be brought to trial, whether through preliminary hearings or other means, you must present evidence which will support your case. A statement or confession obtained from the accused must still be supported by the evidence. In this you have failed to provide sufficient cause or to refute the evidence presented by Mr. Wells.

Mr. Wells, I commend you on your thorough work in this case. It is clear that the evidence could have supported either a trial or at least a preliminary hearing but motive was lacking. At best, with Mrs. DelCassian's 25 year medical history, the death could have been ruled accidental but I support the claim that the charges should be dismissed. Mr. Benjamin, if all evidence in this case were equal on both sides, I would still find for the defendant. Mr. DelCassian had no need to be here to defend his character. It has been impeccable professionally and personally. It appears that his marriage was built on a foundation of intimate trust between two people and withstood 25 years with an unchanged status. If anything were different following the deceased's clinic visit in 2000, it was not enough to build a motive for murder, at least not in the evidence you have presented. Since that time, both parties had obviously agreed to continue in a spousal relationship.

Let it be noted that I dismiss all charges against Patrick Ronan DelCassian forthwith and order that he be immediately released from custody.

Jacob bowed his thanks to the judge and stepped outside the door. He had no dismay over the remarks, even knowing that had she lived, Gabriella would have left Patrick. Their love for one another was made manifest in the agreement to part and break vows of extreme importance to both of them. Her last words to her husband were words of love. His thoughts were quickly interrupted.

'You know Wells, I really had no heart to prosecute Patrick. We had been friends for years. My staff were just doing their job.'

'Your staff let you down. They should have anticipated this outcome.'

'My staff are ambitious. A conviction of this proportion comes with promotions.'

'My boss always talks to me about facts being the cornerstone of a case. I can appreciate now, how important it is for facts to support truth.'

Jacob walked away. He wasn't smug. What he was feeling came close to disgust. These prosecutors, people who worked with the Attorney General. seemed too willing to find him guilty. _I would have thought the opposite_. He shrugged his shoulders and headed back towards the jail.

* * *

As usual, Patrick was standing with his back to the bars. His shoulders rested easy. Jacob could see that he had much less pain.

'Mr. Attorney General. Can I have a word with you?'

Jacob watched Patrick turn slowly. His face though sad was hopeful.

'The word for today is **dismissal**.'

Jacob could hear the footsteps of the guard coming down the hall, keys in hand. He wasn't sure what Patrick intended to do but he hoped for a release from the pressure of the past few weeks. The door was no sooner open than Patrick held out his arms to the young defender. He could hear the sobs of relief. When he was finally let go, Jacob was able to present a plan of action for the immediate moment.

'I would like you to come home with me Patrick. My mother expects it and I want you to meet my father. He was instrumental in helping me set a time line for what happened. I needed the information to make my case.'

'I don't understand.'

'I know, but you will. I will tell you right now that my father is not like other men. He is different but I am going to leave you to decide for yourself.

* * *

Jacob had already called Rob for a pick up. He wanted his guest to be as comfortable as possible. The drive home was mostly silent. Jacob allowed his client to just absorb the feeling of freedom after being cooped up for weeks. It wasn't far to the Brownstone. The front door was already open. Catherine, who waited at the door, could hardly stand stil. Her hands were folded under her chin. Tears filled her eyes.

'Patrick, I am so happy to see you. Welcome, please come in.'

'Catherine is this real? Am I really here in your home?'

'Yes, yes! Come in and meet the rest of my family.'

Catherine drew the tall handsome man down the hall. Jacob followed, a big smile on his face. He had never seen that look on his mother's face before. All the way home he knew that Patrick was as excited as any kid going on his first date. In moments when he could drag his face from the scene outside he had said, 'Your mother is my sister. She was my saviour. Imagine that she could have a child who would one day save my life. I can't believe the beautiful way in which life works.'

Jacob just continued to smile. He wondered where Patrick's deep faith had gone but said nothing more until they were seated together as a family.

Catherine went into the living room where the girls were sitting on the floor. Mea was scared by the tall stranger, but Cilla jumped up and went to stand in front of him. She showed no fear. He extended his hand to shake hers before sitting down. Sue and Cathy came in to share in the good news and meet the AG.

Vincent had not yet made his appearance. They all made a little small talk. Sue had prepared some pre dinner treats. Most of the talk was centered around the Governor's Ball. No one wanted to introduce the topic of Gabriella.

'The evening ended in a way I could not have anticipated. I don't know how much Jacob has told you but …..'

'Even to me, his mother, he has been very discreet. It is up to you to share what you feel. If you want to talk, I am happy to listen. If not let's just move on to other things.... like your future.'

'It seems there is part of the story which is missing. I understand your husband has something to say. Are we waiting for him Jacob?'

'Yes, he'll be here soon.'

Within a few minutes Vincent could be heard coming in through the door. Patrick felt anticipation rise in him. Everyone was tense. The guest had never seen Catherine's husband. All fell silent.

Vincent stood at the entrance to the living room. He knew by the silence that everyone was worried about Patrick's response to his appearance. His eyes sought and found Catherine. She smiled but did not rise to greet him. Her immediate movement was halted by a hand on her arm. Patrick rose from his seat and walked to the door. He stood for some seconds in front of Vincent, almost eye to eye.

'I don't know how to thank you and Catherine for giving birth to Jacob. He saved my life and allowed me to live again without feeling that I had compromised both my wife and my life's work.' Turning to Catherine, he added, 'you have indeed married the better man.'

He offered a hug to Vincent which was accepted. There was no question nor mention of Vincent's unusual facial features. It was clear that he felt Catherine's choice of spouse would be a reflection of her common sense and deep love. He had no need to know what created Vincent's unusual countenance. He did need to know what part Vincent had played in his release. The question came as a surprise to everyone.

'Patrick, a few days ago, I asked my son how the case was coming along. He rarely talked about it. I had no details of what he was doing. As we walked, he said something which jogged my memory. You see, I did not attend the ball with Catherine. As you can see my presence, unannounced, could cause some consternation. I did want very much to enjoy a least a dance with her. I don't often take elevators and I opted to use the stairs as usual. I was at the bottom of the landing when I heard voices. I halted, not wanting to be seen. I heard your wife's remarks to you. I felt her pain and chose not to interrupt what was a very private moment. I retreated down the stairs and hid in a corner. She passed me. I followed her through the side exit to make sure she was fine. I didn't know then who she was. She called you by another name. She stopped and held her hand at her throat. It seemed to me that she was trying not to be sick. I saw her take a taxi outside. I waited at the bottom of the stairs to see if the person who she was speaking with was going to follow her. The encounter threw me. I must admit that I lost confidence and had to wait for quite a while before I attempted to climb the stairs again.'

Catherine leaned over and kissed her husband. 'And yet you braved the stairs again for me?'

'I did. You were worth every moment of my trepidation.'

Patrick jumped in quickly, sharing his own memory. 'As it turns out, it gave me an opportunity to speak with Catherine. Had you been there with her, I would have continued with my social obligations. When you asked me about Gabriella, Catherine, I knew I would have to leave and go to my wife. If I had not arrived home when I did, she would have died alone. That would have saddened me immensely.'

'We are all saddened by your loss Patrick. In spite of your release from jail, it must be hard to be free knowing that nothing will bring back your wife.' Vincent glanced at Catherine as he spoke. Everyone had wanted to say as much. Vincent who had been through a similar experience understood what the loss of a wife would mean.

'It is painful, but my troubled wife is at peace.'

Much later after dinner, Patrick, who was quickly tiring insisted on going home. 'I have to be on my own sooner or later. It has been lovely but I must go.'

'Patrick, I am going to accompany you home. Our driver will take us there and bring me back. I have something I need to share with you. Just a couple of loose ends to tie up.'

The two men were well away from the house before Jacob confided the following information to his client.

'I wrote to Gabriella's father giving her a copy of the documentation from the Paris clinic. He didn't believe that you could have killed her but I intended that you should not be held responsible in any way. His own decision to alter her persona had an impact on her ultimate end.'

'Are you sure Jacob?'

'I am. The other information which you should be aware of, is that you have a brother. Gabriella's Uncle Dinarte is your father's child. Can I ask you not to question me about how I know. I just do. If you decide to use the information, it is up to you. I realize that the next few weeks will be difficult ones for you and there will be choices to make. I want you to know that I appreciate your confidence in me.'

'Thank you Jacob. You are right about choices. I need time. I also need to tell you something. When I had my accident so many years ago, it was the spirit of my mother which hovered over me begging me to live. I didn't want to live without her. She kind of lingered until I finally pulled through. My near death experience opened doors into my mind which I never knew existed. What I learned was not consistent with the teachings of my faith. I had to set aside one or the other. I chose my faith because I felt more comfortable. Later I knew it was not right for me to use any information I obtained through otherworldly means. I am sure by now you know the importance of facts.' He smiled at Jacob's exaggerated nod before continuing. 'I knew as soon as I shook your hand that you were blessed with a deep intuitive power. When I asked you to defend me, I expected that you would use those skills and your mother's investigative nature to find the truth. When we were kids she never let me get away with anything. I think you have inherited that skill from her.'

Both men chuckled even though Jacob found it hard to imagine his mother as a young girl.

'I want to ask you Jacob if you knew what happened to Gabriella in Paris. I don't want to pry into her intimate and private life but she changed, became stronger, more assured on her return.'

'Marie was her mentor. You see she had also been through the operation but the reverse. She understood what it meant to live in the wrong body. She had been fully male. On the first visit, she thought Gabriella was having the opposite procedure, female to male. It might have led to a greater friendship but she found out after surgery that they could not be more than friends. Marie could only love a man. When Gabriella returned, Marie, who had lied to protect Gabriella, was truly married. Despite the hurts of the past, she took the time to help Gabriella transition to a male persona even if she could not look the part. Marie helped her dress, act and speak like a man. What she had to do was untutor all the female actions. The blessing is that they became deep and true friends, nothing more Patrick. It was the re-opening of Gabriella's childhood crush which allowed the mature man inside to surface.'

'Thank you for sharing that with me. I never wanted her to be hurt. I knew they shared a history. I thought Gabriella would not come home at all but I am happy she did.'

Their arrival put and end to any further confidences. The two men shook hands at the door to the condominium. Both were sure it would not be the end of their association.

'Home Jacob?'

'Thanks Rob.'

* * *

Epilogue

Late spring days were giving way to the promise of summer when Patrick DelCassian stepped on board a flight leaving for Brazil. He felt nothing but a deep inner peace. In all his communications with Arturo, he felt confident that there was no rancour between them. He had loved Gabriella as honestly and faithfully as his own limitations would allow. He liked to believe that she returned that love in good measure. What they could make of life together, was achieved.

Hours later, he stepped off the plane in the temperate winter climate of Rio Grande do Sul. Awaiting him was a man who he had not seen before. His intuition told him this was Dinarte. The look of his father was unmistakable. The look of his wife was also there. He wondered if the man, who seemed close to his own age was aware of the connection. Dinarte came forward. He did not take the luggage from Patrick. Instead he stood with arms out inviting an embrace. Was it respect for the loss or recognition? The words uttered in Portuguese needed little translation.

'Meu irmão! _Once you were my nephew, now we are brothers. I could have hated our father for what he did to my mother but I cannot do more than embrace you for the love you gave my niece, my little sister really. She told me often of the love you showered on her. She was very happy with you. You are not like our father who I cannot forgive, but I thank him for making us brothers._'

Patrick was moved to tears by the generosity of this man. He didn't want to think about all the wasted years. Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew they were connected through Gabriella. Surely that relationship laid a better foundation for a shared future.

Despite advancing years, Arturo looked well. He stood on the verandah of the Fazenda obviously waiting for the arrival of his son in law. Patrick wondered if he would ever stop crying. His whole being was flooded with memories. The grief which had been pent up inside, held in abeyance for weeks, was released at last.

He mounted the steps and embraced the man who rightly or wrongly, tried to make the best life for his child. His many mistakes cost him dearly. Arturo would live with the decisions. There was one other person to greet. Marietta waited inside. She sat on a chair in her room, her face turned towards a window.

'Avo, I have come to pay my respects. Your granddaughter's life was so meaningful and until the end she did what she could to help others.'

'_Senhor Ronan, I never had a granddaughter. I had a grandson who died years ago. He died when the Senhor took him to Paris. He couldn't see what was in his face all those years growing up.'_

'You knew?'

'_Yes, of course. I raised him among four boys and two girls. He wanted to play with the boys always. He never asked me for dresses, fought when I said yes. Senhor insisted on girl. I could not say no. He was to be Gabriel_.'

Patrick knelt at her side and took her hand. 'To know life from both sides is a gift. Many people in other parts of the world honour those who carry both male and female within. She was special to me, just as he was special to you.'

Marietta only nodded. She didn't really understand but the words were comforting. Days later, the ashes of Gabriella were laid to rest next to the ashes of her horse Kinder. Patrick ended one period of his life. He knew that his deep faith, which had carried him through so many sad periods of his life, was returning. He would not however abandon his role as an attorney. He fought to retain his position and understood why Jacob pushed for a dismissal. An acquittal would not have carried the same weight of innocence.

* * *

Back in New York, the Wells family stepped out on a sunny afternoon to watch as Cathy mounted the stairs to receive her Masters Degree in Social Work from the University. Vincent did not attend. He stayed home with Mea. A bright sunny day, outside, would not have been comfortable for him. Later when friends from above and below joined them at home for a celebration, he would make his appearance.

Catherine, Jacob, Sue, Cilla and Grandmother Mary attended the event. It would have been difficult to know which one of the family had the most pride. It would not have been difficult to know how much love was shared.

* * *

**I write this story in memory of beloved brother-in-law GRA, a brilliant lawyer whose life and work were dedicated to the rule and spirit of the law.**

**Vetivera**


End file.
